


Roleplay - Dropped & Finished Threads - Lena | Lizard

by saucyspinach, someidioticurl



Category: One Piece
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:42:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 40,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23563987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saucyspinach/pseuds/saucyspinach, https://archiveofourown.org/users/someidioticurl/pseuds/someidioticurl
Summary: A collection of roleplay threads between Lena (saucyspinach) and Lizard (someidioticurl) that we either dropped or finished.





	1. Law | Emil - Back Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emil and Law meet again after nearly a year apart. Unknown to Emil, Law suspects Emil might have been pregnant with his child. Everything seems fine while he tip-toes around the topic, but once he mentions it, things take a nose-dive.

**Lizard**

Yaren was a big port town. The harbour itself was enormous as well. If Heart Pirates travelled on a ship, there was a chance she might have missed them - they could anchor on the other side of the port and Emil would never notice their ship between dozens of others.

Heart Pirates travelled in a submarine and submarines were rather rare.

Swinging in a hammock under the boon, Emil sipped her hot chocolate, but her attention followed the supposedly yellow submarine. Should she go say ‘hi’? It’s been a long time since they had run into each other. A year? Maybe. Emil had no idea. She was terrible with keeping tracks of dates. It felt like a year but it might have been half a year for all she knew. Or two.

She could sense the distant submarine stop. They were in the same port but so far away Emil doubted Heart Pirates would stumble upon her even if they both stayed there for a month.

She should help the Chance Meeting a bit. She should make them aware that she was somewhere in the town. Should she just walk in and greet them? Pfft, no! Where was fun in _that_?! She was going to act like a stereotypical woman and only _hint_.

Emil rolled off the hammock and skipped toward a grocery shop. She needed more oatmeals, some big jars and two plungers.

-

Later that night, when neither Law nor Bepo was in their cabins, Emil stuck a plunger to the outside of their portlights. To the plunger attached to Bepo’s portlight, she tied up a tightly sealed jar filled with fish pastries. Law’s plunger had a jar filled with oatmeal cookies tied up to it. That’s it. No notes. No signatures.

Munching on an extra oatmeal cookie, Emil walked barefoot back to her ship.

* * *

**Lena**

Emil’s surprise would go unnoticed for just about an hour following Law and Bepo’s return to their respective rooms. While Bepo had a bedtime snack of dried fish, Law observed his turtle eat a lettuce leaf. The turtle savoured every bite, its tiny pink tongue flicking in and out of its tiny mouth. The hypnotic chewing eased Law into a state of tranquility and meditation. Law’s eyelids drooped and fell shut…

“Captaaain!” A loud cry shattered the blissful quietude. Law sat upright, eyes wide open. It was Bepo. What could have happened?

Law strode towards his door as the pounding of footsteps down the corridor grew louder and intensified. Law opened the door and almost walked smack into one very breathless and ecstatic polar bear mink, bearing a big wide grin. Bepo held a jar of what looked like pastries aloft and proceeded to wave it about. Bepo did not pause to catch a breath.

“Captain!” Bepo cried out, spraying Law with fish pastry crumbs. “Captain, it’s Emil!” When Law returned a blank look, Bepo promptly explained, “It’s Emil!” Law could hear an extensive succession of exclamation marks punctuating Bepo’s words.

In the several seconds he required to process this new information, Law kept a hand placed over his heart. Bepo’s cries of Emil’s name had quickly drawn a crowd to Law’s room, every one of the crewmen poking their heads around, searching high and low for any glimpses of Emil’s presence. Talking above their excited voices, Bepo described his discovery.

All throughout, Law remained speechless. Memories of Emil locked away flooded his head in a flurry. Emil had disappeared — more like he had left her, and that had been it. She had stolen from him taken with her the recipe for his favourite cookies (no matter how far they sailed, he could never find any more delectable), and she had taken with her…the baby.

The baby: if there was ever one. He had never stayed around to find out, to confirm his hypothesis, to prove it was a misunderstanding. Knowing the tragedies of Emil’s past, he doubted she would ever again bear a child. Moreover, what had any of it to do with him? Yet, if it had, if he had any responsibility —

Law had to repeat himself numerous times that no, he had not seen Emil in over a year, and no, she was not hiding in his room. Rubbing his temples, he told them they were free to search for Emil in town at daybreak after completing the morning rounds. When the crew had finally calmed down and retired to their rooms, Law shut his door and flopped down on the bed.

He hadn’t meant to leave her. He hadn’t meant to walk away. Especially not when he had been there to apologise and make amends. An ill-timed emergency had diverted him from taking up the gauntlet Emil had thrown down: twenty-four hours handcuffed together, before they would decide whether there was anything left between them to save.

The next morning, Law called for an urgent meeting. The Heart Pirates assembled to devise a plan to locate Emil’s whereabouts. They split into groups, obtained a map of Yaren and divided up the land so that each group would cover a different area. Thereafter, they scoured Yaren for traces of Emil or Bor, persisting tirelessly throughout the day.

They tried everything from searching for eyewitnesses to placing bounty posters around the towns. Unfortunately they did not have a photo of Emil so they put their heads together and drew up a caricatural sketch.

On the second day, Law found the jar of oatmeal cookies attached to the plunger. He stashed the jar in his room and made no mention of it to the crew although that night, alone, he snuck one cookie from the jar, and had to chastise himself for craving another. The Heart Pirates altered their travel plans to extend their stay on Yaren.

When the bounty posters were to no avail, they realised their mistake: whoever dared try to capture Emil would likely be vanquished by their target. Hence, the Heart Pirates put up a new poster, promising reward for information.

Day after day, the Heart Pirates never lost heart despite the lack of success. Contrarily, every morning they awoke revivified by hope and memories of their dear friend. Law was driven by a need for closure.

Finally, they got lucky. A merchant reported sighting someone matching Emil’s description buying oats in the farmers’ market. The Heart Pirates combed the market for Emil but it was only on the following day when Law was wandering through the market, buying a potato for each round he made, that he caught a glimpse of Emil from afar. Law had to peer through the bustling crowd as he observed Emil going about her shopping. He searched for any signs of a pram or pushcart or wheelbarrow beside Emil, or what could be a giant loaf of bread but could also be a baby wrapped in cloth that was clutched to Emil’s breast.

After several minutes, he determined that Emil appeared to be alone: a fact that caused his chest to tighten. Law let out a sigh, though whether it was of relief or disappointment he couldn’t say. Clutching the bag of six potatoes to his chest, he circled the stalls, weaving in and out of the crowd, before he slowed his pace to a saunter as he came face-to-face with Emil.

With an air of nonchalance, as if they were on a routine trip to the market together, Law offered Emil the bag of potatoes. “Here, how about fish and chips?”

* * *

**Lizard**

She forgot something. With her cheeks puffed, Emil made another slow round around the market. Her backpack and a bag were filled with produce but she couldn’t shake off a feeling she had forgotten about something. Her grocery list contained eleven elements, she had gotten twelve different things already but she knew for a fact she hadn’t planned to get two of them.

What was she missing?

Certainly not the strong presence that’s been circling around the same market. Emil knew Law was close, but after getting attacked by a trio of thugs a few days back because apparently, Heart Pirates had put a bounty on her head, she decided to not make it easier for them to find her. She had no plans on making it harder either; just not easier.

Bread!

Emil snorted. The eleventh thing on her grocery list was a dozen buns she was going to let dry out to then turn into breadcrumbs.

Law finally approached her when she was paying for them.

At his question, Emil faced him and made a point of looking him down and up, all while ignoring the bag he had offered her. “I have to admit, Law,” she replied with a slight chuckle and no desire to hide a smirk on her face, “you do look like a chip.” She stepped toward him and had to lean her head back to face him. “You even seem to have gotten longer.”

Emil had had fish and chips just a few days earlier and she certainly wasn’t a fan of repeating dishes - she had some pasta planned for that day.

With the shopping completed, Emil brought the bag in front of her chest and held it in both arms. “Has Bepo enjoyed his fish pastries?” She took a step to the side and walked past Law, back toward Caramel. “If he’d like some more, he can come over and I’ll make them. Or Shachi or Penguin or any other of your kids. They’ve always been a delightfull bunch.”

If he was going to say he doesn’t know where Caramel is, she was definitely going to call him an idiot - where else would she be heading?

* * *

**Lena**

While Emil looked him up and down, he did the same to her. Nothing about Emil appeared different - but of course, that didn’t mean nothing had changed. Emil, against the backdrop of loaves and baguettes, bagels and rolls - there was something about the moment that surprised him. They could very well have been shopping for groceries together, the kind of stuff families did. 

Her slight chuckle drew his attention back to her face. It puzzled him how the same smirk she wore (and what typically ensued) had caused him displeasure in the past when there was almost an endearing touch to it now. Nevertheless, his brows furrowed at her remark on his appearance. Chip? Longer? Was she calling him a long potato? That could hardly have been intended as a compliment, but it didn’t sound like an insult either. Not that it should matter what she thought of him, though he would dispute that he was a chippy sort.

“And you look like a fish,” he said blandly, aware of how imbecilic he sounded but unable to stop himself. “You even seem to have gotten fishier. Although…” The bag of potatoes was still extended between them and he carried it against his chest. “Would that make us… Fish and Chip?” Oh, he was certainly overflowing with a profusion of wit today. Fish and Chip? What the hell was he saying? What were they, a comedy duo? He gave this a second’s thought and decided it didn’t sound too bad. Not the comedy duo idea, for sure, but their new epithets: Fish and Chip. Perhaps one day, when he retired Surgeon of Death and wanted to live on the down-low, he would become… Chip. Whatever the hell Emil had meant by that.

Law found himself staring at Emil’s buns. They seemed to be sitting precariously - in the bag, which looked almost bursting with groceries. Her question about Bepo’s fish pastries drifted away from him with the wind. He turned and hastened after her, then trailed behind a step or two, before he quickened his pace and caught up alongside her. He was determined to trail Emil until he learned the full truth and only the truth of what had happened to her baby. Or babies. If she even had any recently. And then she said it - the first clue that slipped from her mouth: any other of your kids. Any other? So there was another! Though he knew he couldn’t bet on them being alive. 

“I’m coming over,” he declared, striding ahead. He stopped within earshot and turned back to Emil. “It’s…what I need, some time away from the…kids. They can be such a loud and exhausting handful, don’t you agree? Never thought you’d find the children any bit…delightful.”

* * *

**Lizard**

At Law’s statement that he was coming over, Emil paused in her tracks. With a raised eyebrow, she kept on ‘staring’ at him as he bumbled away. Law had always been an awkward idiot, but this behaviour was odd even for him.

She shrugged, shook her head and continued on her way back to Caramel. Perhaps Law was simply nervous to meet her again. They _had_ parted on a weird note and it seemed Heart Pirates had taken a lot of effort to find her… Even if it somehow resulted in a wanted poster with her name.

“I’ve suspected this might be a reason but I suppose now it’s official - despite all your complaining, you always came back to my ship because even my annoying presence was still a respite when compared to your loud and exhausting bunch of kids.” Since when had Law taken on her habit of calling his crew his kids? Emil had no idea but wasn’t going to complain. “I suppose being adored can be tiring at some point and one needs someone to deflate them and bring down to earth.”

Emil poked Law’s shoulder as she kept on walking - by now, Law should be able to see her ship… if he was able to recognise its mast in the forest of others. “And I’ve always found your kids delightful. Their faith in you is just adorable even if sometimes I question what they see in you, Law.” With a straight face, she poked him again.

“You can be crude. Obnoxious. Disgusting. Borderline imbecilic. Frankly, the only two good qualities about you are your adorable bunch of kids and the fact that _sometimes_ you make things interesting.” She threw the one free arm in the air. “The first time you glued doughnuts to my ass was funny but then you _had_ to go on and do _the same thing f_ ifty more times.” Frowning, Emil pointed at Law. “Shame on you and your unimaginative brain, Law.”

* * *

**Lena**

Law had his gaze fixed straight ahead. A dark look flashed in his eyes. Emil’s impassioned and charming evaluation of him was hardly music to his ears. Of the numerous faults she could find with him, had she to pick imbecilic? Nevertheless, he allowed her to continue uninterrupted and he ignored the pokes to his shoulder. Contrasting thoughts flitted through his mind: part of him thought he didn’t have to put up with such a personal affront; part of him had to acknowledge a grain of truth in her appraisal. It was generally accepted that pirates had nasty reputations, after all, and it would not be the first or last time someone considered him or his actions disgusting. Undoubtedly, so was he obnoxious. But, imbecilic? His expression turned grim. What did the crew see in him? What had become of his life?

He inhaled a deep breath and let out a sigh. He adjusted the bag of potatoes in his arm. He quite wished to get rid of them immediately. He wondered what in the world he was doing with so many spuds. What was he doing at all? He should have asked her, before, back then, not months later, not after he left her - or them behind. And if it was far too late…?

Law gave Emil a sidelong glance with an arched brow. “You found it funny?” He paused for a second before he cleared his throat and affected a sombre tone, “Sounds like you have an ocean of pent-up anger, Emilia. As a concerned fr—fellow mortal, speaking from personal experience, I’d advise that you find an outlet to release your frustrations, and not keep them bottled up.”

Sighting the Caramel’s mast in the distance, he felt propelled towards it by an invisible force. He quickened his pace just a tad, when a bout of sentimentality struck him out of nowhere.

“Remember the time you visited the Tang for a check-up? I told you to choose from several boxes of bandaids whichever you liked. I left you in the room for one second. When I returned, a mosaic of bandaids were plastered all over your skin. I was speechless. Also amazed.” He paused and sidestepped a passerby who cut brusquely in between them.

“One thing led to another. It bothered me that you weren’t impressed with my extraction of hearts - yours, mine. Then, I ended up showing you, what I’d never showed anyone else… And I remember we were running and, and we came to stand atop a cliff. Down below, the placid waters of the lake sparkled under the sun. You said you would catch me, and I jumped after you. You didn’t let me drown. Do you regret it?”

He stopped in his steps and turned to Emil. Before she could answer his question, he asked, in a quiet voice with a trace of uncertainty, “Emil, is there…anything I should know?”

* * *

**Lizard**

Emil stepped up to Law and placed her hand on his forehead as if checking his temperature. “Now you worry me, Law - you’re reminiscing.” She sighed. “Come on inside.” Emil hooked her hand under his arm and tugged him toward Caramel. If they were going to have some serious conversation, she would rather have it while seated on a couch instead of standing in the middle of a busy dock.

Once inside Caramel, Emil dropped her backpack and the bag on the counter in the kitchen. She took Law’s potato bag and placed it there too. She motioned at Law to sit on a couch but sat on a table in front of him herself.

“I don’t… Think there’s anything you should know, Law.” With her linked fingers at her lips, Emil stared at Law. If she could see, one might think she tried to look inside his soul. “But it’s clear that you think there’s something I should tell you about. And…” She shrugged and dropped her hands. “Fuck it. Maybe our whole problem is that neither of us is straight with what we say and mean?”

Emil straightened her right forefinger. “From the top: yes, you can be obnoxious, disgusting, imbecilic and all the others but it’s ‘can’ not ‘are’. You can be either of those at any moment, but you’re not them all at all times.”

She straightened her middle finger to go along with the forefinger. “Yes, the doughnut on my ass was amazing.” She chuckled. “The fact I had to deal with the glue on my ass and glaze in my bedsheets was a big pain in my ass but it was funny and I regretted I haven’t thought of it myself. That is the first two or three times because after that it became just plain annoying. If I had to name one thing I hate in the world…” She squinted. “It would be assholes who dare to hurt those I love but ‘repetition’ is high on this list too.”

Third finger. “I have more pent-up anger and frustration than you think. My way of dealing with it is about as self-destructive as yours. Instead of ripping my heart out and squeezing it, I get myself into dangerous situations and try my best to get out. Sometimes I just go in the middle of some local bandit camp and punch the boss.”

Fourth finger. “Speaking about ripping hearts out - you’re not the first devil fruit user I faced.” She waved her free hand in front of her own face. “I was blinded by one. And then he restored my sight. And then he made my hearing so sensitive a whisper sounded like a horn blasting into my ears. And he then returned it to normal and took my sight away. Only to give it back and take away like five more times. Maybe it’s true there are less devil fruit users outside Grand Line but guess what, I was born and raised in New World and despite all my travels I haven’t left it yet.”

She sighed once more when straightening her pinky finger. “I’m not sure anymore what I was thinking back then. That maybe I can fix you?” She gave out a dry snort. “You and I, we seemed to be broken by the world in a similar way. We lost hope and our way of dealing with this all was self-inflicted pain. If I could help you get out, maybe there was hope for me? Dunno. Either way.” She folder all but forefinger she pointed at Law. “You make a big deal out of the fact I didn’t let you drown, but this act on its own was obvious for me. Here’s this guy who can’t swim but wants to and I don’t dislike him so let’s make sure he doesn’t drown. Simple.”

Emil dropped her arms again. “But I was glad you did jump. It was promising. Then again it was either you jump and we try to work ourselves out or you don’t jump and you’re only this weird stranger I might or might not walk on ever again. And as a big pain in the ass, as you were, I would lie if I said there were no nice moments between us. So yeah, I don’t regret it.”

She stood up from the table and fell onto the couch beside Law. Close, but not close enough for their shoulders to touch. “My rant is done. Your turn. Rant about whatever you want but I would appreciate if you told me what you think I should be telling you about.”

* * *

**Lena**

Law followed pliantly, barely registering the tug on his arm, as Emil steered him in the direction of the Caramel. While Emil put away their groceries, he sat down on the couch he was motioned towards. The stiffness in his shoulders did not loosen despite that the Caramel had previously been one of his favourite haunts - it was the second vessel he boarded most frequently, besides his own - and its interior appeared no different from before. Yet, in the months of absence, the air had become drier, heavier, colder, that it felt harder to breathe. He strained to listen out for any telltale sounds that would suggest another’s presence onboard - if fits of wailing would be too much of a stretch. But there was a disquieting silence, only suspended by Emil’s voice. Law lifted his gaze to her, the look in his eyes eager but tinged with apprehension. 

Throughout Emil’s monologue, he was the most polite and attentive, interrupting not once, averting his eyes not once, in all the time they had been in each other’s company. He listened as she pointed out their lack of effective communication, as she declared her hatred of repetition (as if that was the biggest issue with the donuts prank, repetition, but point noted); he couldn’t suppress a smile when she described waltzing into an enemy camp and punching the boss to vent her frustrations (he thought that would have been fascinating entertainment to watch), though his smile vanished at the recognition of the self-destructive nature of her actions; his expression softened and revealed traces of sympathy when she detailed her unfortunate encounter with the devil fruit user who sadistically toyed with her sight and hearing before rendering her blind.

Were they broken by the world in a similar fashion? Put through the wringer, dealt a bad hand, with life throwing them curveballs - no two traumatic experiences could ever be similar, yet undeniably they were connected, perhaps by the thread of indescribable yearnings and anguish that clawed away at their insides. He knew he should be grateful to be surrounded by a crew who respected him more than he deserved. Emil, on the other hand, was just beginning her journey to reclaim her life after liberating herself from her misfortunate plight - which in itself was an admirable achievement. Still he wondered if she ever felt truly freed, inwardly - likely, the memories of the past would not release her from their haunting so easily. He wasn’t typically one for empathy, but hearing her openly describe her lost of hope, how he wished he could fix her too. 

He didn’t move when she sank down on the couch beside him. When he had suggested, somewhat wryly, that her ocean of pent-up anger had best be given an outlet, he had not expected her to unburden herself immediately. Nevertheless…

Law tilted his head back against the couch’s backrest. He stared at the ceiling for a second, then momentarily closed his eyes. Emil was offering him the space to rant, but his mind was a total blank, his throat dry, his tongue tied. He didn’t feel particularly upset to rant at the moment, not that it was ever in his habit to launch into harangues - not usually, though he could be naggy and long-winded in an irritable mood if things were not done according to his directions, should someone decide they knew better and left him to clean up the resulting mess. He reopened his eyes after a few seconds, sat upright, and gave Emil a sidelong glance.

“By Jove, that was a lot to process,” he said, raising his eyebrows in feigned amazement. He let out what sounded like a chuckle cut off midway. “Still, thank you for that. I suppose I could consider it confiding in me.” He relaxed back into the chair and gazed up at her ceiling. “You are right, we’re not frank with each other. In fact, we don’t really talk, do we? And when we do, it’s quite the usual nonsensical, inane chatter - I am guilty.” 

Law shifted in his seat and removed his hat, which he placed to his side on the armrest. Raking his fingers through his hair, he turned to face Emil. For the first time in months, he studied her features. She did not appear to have changed much outwardly. And despite what she had gone through, she seemed, to him, to retain a certain inextinguishable radiance that no adversity could dull. His gaze drifted down to her lips and lingered for a second. He remembered how it had felt: her lips pressed to his, the warmth of the kiss they shared, sometimes bitter, sometimes sweet. For a beat, he forgot everything he had wanted to ask her.

“I don’t know where to start…” he admitted in a quiet voice. “We are adults, but such conversations are hard when they become intimate. We don’t discuss intimate matters in the crew. It was never necessary and always irrelevant.” He paused and drew in a breath. “I want to help you too, Emil. I don’t know how, but I do. Like you said, perhaps we’d like to fix others because we can’t fix ourselves. And what are we hoping to achieve with that? I’ve never expected anything in return. Perhaps I did recognise in you something I recognised in myself. But I have acted irresponsibly and unbecomingly on many occasions. Sometimes, I just didn’t want to acknowledge what I saw in you, maybe because I’ve never really dealt with all the emotional baggage I’ve been dragging around.”

He snuck a glance at Emil, attempting to gauge her reaction to determine if he should continue.

“I’m glad I jumped, back then. It was imbecilic, but cathartic and worth it.” His gaze fell to her lap where her hand rested. “You’re wrong about one thing, Emil,” he said. “I haven’t lost hope… Well, I did. But then I found it again when I least expected to. And of course, I lost it again after that.” Law hesitated. Then he reached his hand toward hers. With the briefest of contact, his fingers brushed against hers before he placed his hand lightly over Emil’s. “What you went through…I can’t imagine. But there’s one thing you should know. If you’re alive and breathing, hope can spring up from the most unlikely corners.” Law lifted his hand and brought it back to his lap. “A life lived in the absence of hope is impossible to carry on,” he said, pushing to his feet. He gestured towards her kitchen. “I’ll go get a glass of water. Wait here.”

Minutes later, he returned with two glasses filled with water. Knowing how she disliked when he made a mess in her kitchen, he had opted not to make any tea or coffee but figured he couldn’t go wrong with water. As for the thing she wanted him to tell her, that he had thought she should tell him about…

“Oh yes, I had an inkling there was something you should tell me.” He offered Emil one of the glasses before he plopped himself back down on the couch beside her. “But I could very well be wrong. And if I’m wrong, there’s the possibility I will never live it down, and you will be upset I asked. Hence my conundrum.” He lifted the glass to his lips and took a sip. “I suppose I could take the fact that you haven’t brought it up to mean there is nothing I should know about. That my speculation was wrong. Yet, it’s sometimes frustratingly hard to read you. Maybe you’ve even forgotten it yourself, repressed the memory. And if you have, there’d be no way I could ever find out if I was right or wrong.”

He tipped the glass to his lips again and gulped down its contents. If he were to guess, Emil was probably likely to wring his neck out of suspense, with his ceaseless beating around the bush and avoidance of going straight to the point. But truly, he doubted there would be any way to know for sure if she had ever been pregnant recently, if there was the likelihood of her repressing the memory. He could offer to give her a physical examination, under the pretence of a regular health check-up, but he would not be able to tell if there had been a fetus in the past year. Ultimately, the fact that there presently was no baby around, should be the only answer he could hope to derive. Still the questions tumbled out his mouth.

“Were you expecting?” he asked. “When we last met, I can’t remember if it was something you said, but I ended up with the impression that you were. Not that your personal affairs should be my concern. Yet, I thought…” He pressed a hand over his mouth. When his hand fell back to the armrest, he was smiling at how absurd he must have sounded. At that moment, he wondered if he had fooled himself into thinking that she was with child.

* * *

**Lizard**

Emil waited for him in silence, full of patience. She would have been surprised if he spun into a full-blown rant the very moment she sat down beside him. While Law had an occasional tendency to spin into long and over-complicated monologues, it was hardly ever that he spoke about his feelings, insecurities and worries.

She knew better than to interrupt him or rush up. He would eventually get to it… Or run away for another half a year. 

When he started with stupid comments at her own ramble, Emil only lifted one eyebrow at him. On one side it did sound like his usual reaction to any sort of an attempt at heart to heart conversation, but Emil decided to be, once again, patient. Perhaps a glib was what he required to eventually slid into the honesty. Eventually, he admitted to the guilt of the miscommunication and while it wasn’t accurate he was the only to blame, all Emil could do was to give him a soft smile. Then, an ear.

He touched her hand. Law, out of his own volition, took her hand! Was it even real? Was the world ending? Had he hit his head against something hard after all? Was it even Law, to begin with? If not for the fact she didn’t really move since he started talking, not wanting to distract him, Emil would have noticeably stopped moving right that moment.

By the time it even occurred to her to entwine their fingers, Law already moved his hand away. Then he moved his whole body away.

While he busied himself in the kitchen, Emil took off her shoes and sat cross-legged. At first, she rested both hands on her lap, but when he offered her a glass of water, she took it with a quiet thanks and held in both hands.

He finally got onto the topic of what he thought she should talk with him about. Whatever it was, it was clear to Emil he was very uncomfortable with the idea, meandering around it instead of going with the previous flow and diving into it head-on. Still, she was patient with him and waited, listening to each end every word of his, her eyes fixed on Law as she occasionally took a tiny sip of her water.

“Were you expecting?”

A deep frown pulled her eyebrows together and she lowered her glass. He had thought she was pregnant? Emil tried to recall what comment of hers could have possibly given him this idea but she came in the blank. It was almost a year ago - she had barely remembered the whole thing at all.

Emil looked up at Law’s face, her eyebrows still knit together. “Have you ever thought it was yours?” It was a cruel question to ask, certainly before she even clarified that no, she hadn’t been expecting.

Emil sighed and slumped in her seat. Glaring at the further edge of the table in front of them, she took a sip of her water. “You were right - I am upset now. I’m not sure if I still want to deal with someone who thought it was a good idea to leave a pregnant, possibly with their own child, woman behind and show up again a year later.” They’ve had sex enough times for it to be plausible if unlikely result as Emil’s always made sure he used a rubber.

Emil breathed out through her nose and, with eyes closed, rubbed her eyebrows. She was annoyed, though she wasn’t sure whether it was because he would have left a pregnant woman for so long or because here he was again, talking about her and pregnancy again.

She took another sip of her water. “Well, I suppose it explains why you kept on walking in circles on this market.” Left or not, he had been clearly bothered by the whole idea and it wasn’t like he could just call her and find her - it’s been always more of luck (or bad luck) that brought them together. “No, Law. I was not expecting. Neither yours nor anyone else’s child. And I have no clue what might have created this idea in your head.” She gave out a dry snort. “Are you sure you aren’t the one who would like to have my baby?”

Emil unfolded her legs and swung up to her feet. “Welp, if you wanted to see me only to know the answer to this question, now you know it. I’m not pregnant with your child. I’ve never been and it’s not a memory I would try to repress.” She probably would have given any children to adoption but not repress the memory of them. “If that’s all you wanted to know, you’re free to go. I won’t annoy you.” She waved her hand toward the door while she walked to the kitchen. “But you’re welcome to stay and help me out with the dinner if you’ve ever wanted to work through our other issues too.”

* * *

**Lena**

For the first time since they became entangled in each other’s lives, Law saw Emil in a different light. Emil sat through his confession with more patience and attentiveness than Law would have expected. Her presence was far from disconcerting and her quietness and stillness encouraged the words that would have otherwise been lodged in his throat. Still, he couldn’t shake off the sense of vulnerability that urged his feelings to retreat inwardly. For the most part, he remained seated for the lack of strength in his legs that felt anchored to the ground, as heavy as the sinking and twisting sensations in his gut.

 _“Have you ever thought it was yours?”_ Emil’s words echoed in his head as he stared fixedly with narrowed eyes at the empty glass grasped in his hand. Emil had to already know the answer, and if she didn’t, she would get nothing out of him. He could sense the shift in Emil’s mood as it darkened. He almost prickled at her reproach that he’d left a pregnant woman for months. He stiffened up and brought the glass to his lips instinctively before he realised it was empty and set it down with a loud thud. Explanations that sounded to him like excuses whirled in his head in self-defence: _We can’t all be everywhere at once_. Yet part of him did acknowledge the irresponsibility of his past decisions, the faulty prioritising of his actions. The remorse had never let him forget.

Law slumped back against the couch and released a deflated sigh. He retrieved his hat from the armrest and put it back on his head, tugging the brim down over his eyes. He felt his chest tighten when Emil finally answered the question that had been weighing on his mind. “ _I was not expecting.”_

Law sat unmoving, as if he hadn’t heard her words at all. Then his face crumpled slightly with his lips pulled into a taut smile. He could not tell why he was smiling, what kind of smile it was, but the look in his eyes revealed traces of disappointment, that he was glad for the way they were seated side-by-side, and that Emil could not see the expression on his face, could not discern any cracks in his composure.

“I see, that’s a relief,” he managed to say softly. He pressed a hand to his face. “I think I knew that all along.” He swallowed dryly and reached for the empty glass only to set it down again. His brows furrowed at his utter foolishness for having believed otherwise. He lifted his gaze to Emil when she stood up. He watched her disappear out the door. For a second he was gripped by a sense of emptiness, that relief stirred within him at the invitation to stay for dinner.

Nonetheless, Law remained seated for a few minutes, leaning his head back against the couch, reflecting on Emil’s words and his own, thinking back to everything he could remember since he first suspected Emil was pregnant. He wanted to close his eyes for a moment, or forever, but instead, he hauled himself to his feet and plodded out the room. He found Emil in her kitchen. Law paused in the kitchen doorway and breathed out a sigh.

“You don’t annoy me,” he said, with sincerity in his tone. “You did, in the past, but back then, I was annoyed at a lot of things I would be too embarrassed to admit. I probably still am, but…I’m working through those things.” He sauntered into the kitchen and took another glass from the cabinet. He filled the glass with water. “Thanks, Emil,” he said, glancing at her with a look of gratitude. “For setting my mind at ease. Neither of us would have been ready for children.” Despite his words, he only sounded half-convinced. Law drank down a gulp of water and set the glass down. 

“I can’t believe you’d think that was the only reason I came looking for you,” he added, imbuing his voice with affected incredulity. “Can it be any more obvious? I came here for dinner, for your cooking, specifically.” He frowned, as if disappointed in Emil. “Why else would I have been in the market? I was shopping for ingredients. I mean, does it even need to be said?” He gave a wry smile, back to his usual self. He took a step towards Emil and asked, “What are we making? I can dice and slice things without setting your kitchen ablaze.” 

Law would, for the first time, perhaps, follow Emil’s directions in the kitchen. He would aid her in the preparation of dinner where she allowed him to assist her. Law made little conversation as Emil busied herself with the cooking. There was no need for knives to go flying around the kitchen. Moreover, after circling the market for a considerable amount of time, he was ravenous and fully dependent on Emil to satiate his hunger. He had wanted to ask Emil if she would have kept the child had she been pregnant, but he figured it was best left to another time. It mattered not, not in the present.

Instead, he would ask tentatively, when they sat down for dinner, “Earlier you mentioned there are other issues we have to work through. I’m open to discussing them now, if there’s anything you want to bring up. Oh and-” He gestures to his plate with a fork. “-This looks very good. I’m sure it could not have been this good without my help.”

* * *

**Lizard**

Emil was washing potatoes Law had brought by the time he joined her in the kitchen. She had had different plans for her dinner but she didn’t mind changing things to incorporate those potatoes. Fish and chips were out of the question though - she refused to eat them twice in a row. Chicken in roasted vegetables sounded nice though.

She sensed Law approaching long before he stepped into her kitchen or spoke up. She didn’t turn or say anything at his sigh, though she wondered just why exactly he sighed - had he thought he wouldn’t find her? 

It was only his statement she didn’t annoy him that made her turn to give him a dubious look, with one eyebrow arched. When he explained himself, all she did was give him a slight shrug as she returned to washing potatoes - a small smile tugged at her lips though. Maybe he had grown a little bit after all.

“I don’t have a lot of glasses, you know. Just keep using the same, instead of grabbing a new one each time.” She said that in a somewhat amused tone but decided not to comment his statement neither of them was ready for children. He was right, of course, but Emil just wished he would stop talking about their hypothetical kids.

She didn’t believe he was on the market shopping for ingredients - she had noticed him early enough to be aware he had been purchasing one potato at a time. Still, she decided to let it slip for now. Law’s already been more open with her than usual, maybe she shouldn’t push too much.

When he suggested helping out, Emil placed potatoes in front of him, then pulled out some carrots, celery, onion and pepper too. She instructed him how to cut each vegetable, kept on watching to make sure he didn’t have a stupid idea of ‘doesn’t matter how they are chopped exactly, as long as they are chopped’.

He was weirdly agreeable. It was weird but nice weird and Emil allowed herself to hope it would happen more often.

Eventually, they sat down and Law offered to deal with other issues of theirs.

“I’m not sure, Law,” Emil teased and impaled one of the potatoes on her own fork. With a long hum, she rubbed her chin while scrutinising the innocent vegetable. “They sure would have been evener. Heh, who would have thought that the chaotic me would be more strict about anything than the stick in the ass also knowns as Trafalgar Law.” She took a bite of the potato and smiled. Even or not, it tasted nice.

“The fact we don’t really talk openly and just tiptop around each other all while throwing insult at each other is probably our biggest issue.” She counted on her fingers. “No more doughnuts or anything else glued to my butt or anything else, please. Like I said, it was funny two-three first times and worth the huge pain in the ass of cleaning it up but then it was just boring and pain in the ass. Just don’t make me clean things up.”

Emil took another bite of her dinner before straightening the second finger. While chewing, she gave out a long hum and squinted her eyes. Should she demand Law just never mentions her child or pregnancy again? No. They probably should have a calm chat about it later, instead.

In the end, Emil sighed, picked her plate up from the table and slumped against Law’s side. “Here, this.” She shifted a bit, making herself more comfortable. “I’m a very touchy and cuddly person yet you squirm away each time I hug you. Or at least you used to.” She gave out a dry snort. “Is it one of those things that used to annoy you but not anymore?” Emil was willing to believe that all the times they ended up making out and having sex eased him into cuddles.

Funny, normal people probably cuddled before having sex.

“And sometimes you act as if my whole life revolved around you or at least it should. It’s true I often jump on an occasion to mess with you, with you either as the victim or the partner, but it’s not going to be always like that.” She poked a piece of roasted carrot. “Wasn’t the whole ‘let’s cuff ourselves together’ idea just to see if we would somehow survive each other for like twenty-four hours straight or kill each other?” Frowning, Emil shook her head. “It’s been so long ago, I can’t even remember what exactly we hoped to accomplish with that.”

Emil popped a piece of roasted carrot into her mouth and talked while chewing. “And no, I don’t believe that this dinner is what made you look for me. I’m willing to believe it’s what’s making you stay or even want to be around, but that’s not why you were looking for me.”

* * *

**Lena**

With patience, Law listened to Emil’s instructions on how to cut each vegetable, as though he didn’t know how to do such a simple thing. Strangely, however, there was something he rather enjoyed in the moment, despite typically disliking being told to do things a certain way contrary to his own methods. The atmosphere in the kitchen felt unexpectedly relaxed, with only the sounds of the knife hitting the chopping board as he sliced the medley of vegetables, wondering why so many were necessary for one dish, and the sounds of Emil busying about her side of the kitchen, cooking up their dinner. Law cut the vegetables exactly as Emil wanted, even if his hands were itching to get creative with them - as creative as he could get, at least. Which tended to be a bit of a mess. Then he stood aside and quietly watched Emil, the savoury aroma of the chicken and roasted vegetables whetting his appetite. 

They sat down to eat and Law glanced up to see Emil studying the chunk of potato. She nitpicked about its lack of evenness and he frowned, giving her a look of disbelief, even though he knew she was just teasing. 

“Oh? My bad.” He ignored her comment about him being a stick-in-the-mud. Wasn’t like it was the first time he was hearing such a thing. It rolled off him like water off a duck’s back. “See,” he said, leaning forward and gesturing with his fork, “the shape of the potato was not even to begin with. Stands to reason, we cannot possibly expect every chunk of potato to be sliced even. Besides, to an atomic level, you’ll see that-” He cut himself off and dug into the food before Emil could snatch it away from him.

He chewed and listened as she brought up that they didn’t talk openly and tiptoed around each other, throwing insults without saying what they actually wanted to say. Yes, it was terrible communication, and they were getting nothing through to each other. He said nothing in comment, though he acknowledged her words with a slight nod, meeting her eyes, even if she couldn’t see him. He thought his silence should suggest his agreement, for if he had disagreed, she knew she could expect him to voice it. 

Emil then picked up her plate and slumped against his side, leaning against him like he was some cushion. Law tensed up, instinctively, but stayed seated. A very stiff cushion he made. He put his cutlery down on the table and swallowed whatever he was chewing with a mouthful of water. He struggled to find the words and was glad she did most of the talking for them. Mostly, it bewildered him that indeed, he minded their closeness in physical contact less and less, and he was not so much annoyed by her leaning against him, but more uncertain of whether to put an arm around her.

Glancing down at her lap, he leaned back and let out a breath that relaxed his shoulders. “Yes, I can see that you’re very touchy and cuddly.” He took her hand in his, tentatively, as though it would break if he held it the wrong way. “It still annoys me. But less.” He looked at her sidelong. “Perhaps we can agree on you telling me if you’d like...a cuddle, or whatever. So it’s not unexpected, and I’m not surprised. I wouldn’t know what you wanted…” He didn’t know what to say to the rest of her words even if he heard everything she said. 

“Why I went looking for you- I think you know the answer. Even if I don’t know it, myself.” He let go of her hand and reached for his glass, as if he just needed something to hold, but wasn’t sure if he should continue to hold hers. “For what it’s worth, normal people don’t cuff themselves together as a test to see if they could survive each other’s company long enough to make amends. We can’t...force things like that. And even if we can’t stand each other’s company 24 hours a day, it doesn’t mean we can’t stand each other- it doesn’t mean things would never work. Besides, things could work now, but then break apart later, inevitably. Problems would surface.” He turned back and looked at Emil. “So, back to your first point, talking openly about things would help.”

He picked up his fork and stabbed a piece of chicken, before he set it back down. “24 hours is a short time, Emil. If there is to be- if we want to make things work, it’s not just for the 24 hours, but every step of the way.” He paused, tilting the glass to his lips before setting it down. For a second, a faint but sincere smile flashed on his face. “But I’m here, because I’m willing to give it a try. Whatever it is between us; whatever you want to call it. We don’t even have to call it anything.”

* * *

**Lizard**

Munching on her food, Emil turned her head away from Law - a stupid smile stretching her lips and making her cheeks ache. Law took her hand. Out of his own volition. Again. Twice in a day! It should be noted down and celebrated with anniversaries if Emil only had any calendars or kept track of days at all. When he let go, Emil gave out a sound that might have been a slight chuckle or a faint cough.

"I think it would be fair to say we were up against the wall back then." Emil kicked off her shoes and lifted her feet onto the couch. With the plate balanced on her lap, she still partially leaned against Law's side. "And the idea is if we can't make it through the day while cuffed up, we just give up because it looked like we would have to give up at some point. Neither of us... Well..." Emil tilted her head to 'look' up at Law's face. " _I_ didn't expect it to suddenly solve all our problems.

Emil popped a piece of chicken into her mouth and, chewing, gave out a thoughtful hum. She was tempted to slump further against Law but resisted it. For now. "I don't _know_ why you come over, Law. My working hypothesis is that you're so god damn affection starved that any amount gives you a wrenching reaction. On top of that, you convinced yourself you don't want or need it." Starved people could vomit everything if they ate too fast. Was Law the same? Maybe. "It's a working hypothesis though, there are holes in it. My second hypothesis is that you're simply a masochist and cuddles from me are just another form of self-inflicted torture."

That reminded her.

"Say, Law..." Emil tapped the fork against her lower lip, wondering whether to bring it up or not. "Speaking about the self-inflicted torture... When was the last time you pulled out your heart?" Emil tapped her chest and held up her hand as if holding up a cube containing her heart. "Or any other organ really and squeezed it?" She closed her fingers into a fist and lowered her hand before chuckling. "Can you pull out my heart now? Or..." She sat up straight, facing Law, her eyes as big as saucers. "What about a stomach?" She popped a piece of a potato into her mouth. "I wonder how it will wiggle while we eat." Or how exactly it will work but then again somehow any heart Law had pulled out seemed able to pump blood.

Emil picked up her plate and started bouncing in her seat like an overexcited child. "Pull out my stomach. Pull out my stomach! I wanna see my stomach while I eat!'

* * *

**Lena**

Law drew in a deep breath and tipped the brim of his hat, an indication to those who knew him that he was about to launch into one of his monotonous monologues.

“A day is both too short and too long a time. We shouldn’t place limits on things like this. And you can put the most intimate couple on a boat, handcuff them to each other, and I guarantee you, in less than twelve hours, they’ll find something to rip each other’s throats out about.” He paused for a second. “Everyone needs a certain amount of space and time-” He cut himself off, not knowing why the hell he was going on and on about this. He turned to Emil with a solemn expression. 

“Things will always look like we have to give up at some point - not just things between us, but with everything. We wake up every day with the realisation that we’d have to give up someday. But it’s natural, with a limited span of time, we can’t persist in every endeavor. But that doesn’t mean we give up on things that matter, even if it seems forlorn.” He promptly shut up, unsure if he was talking about their relationship or something else in general by then, and abruptly attempted to change topics by saying, “The chicken is very tender. I’ve never tasted anything like it.”

Then came her hypothesis about him being starved of affection. There was perhaps truth in it, but he wouldn’t give her the pleasure of owning up to it. Her theory about him being a masochist who sought out cuddles as a form of self-inflicted torture nearly elicited a laugh from him. He coughed instead and cleared his throat, as though something was lodged in it. He gulped down some water and swallowed hard. 

“Oh, you’re right about one thing,” he began. “I don’t want or need it.” It was too much to utter the word affection, so he simply referred to affection as ‘it’. “And well, I’m sure there are a group of masochists out there that would be into something like that,” he added, with a smirk.

Law looked at Emil in bewilderment when she asked when he last pulled out his heart. He frowned, a tad disconcerted at how the subject was brought up so casually. She requested that he extracted her heart and he turned fully to her, his brows raised in curiosity about where this was going to go. Was Emil feeling particularly masochistic? Did she desire a rush of heart-squeezing adrenaline? But a heart massage, mid-meal? Really? 

He saw her eyes big as saucers and began to worry a little about the ideas that must be dancing in her head. She was, after all, the queen of ideas that tended to be both wildly shocking but also infallibly compelling. Bouncing in her seat, Emil requested to have her stomach removed as though that was the most ordinary procedure while two people were engaged in conversation enjoying their meal, like toasting glasses or even passing the salt across the table. Law stared at her in stupefaction, as if she’d just said, ‘SURPRISE,’ and produced a baby that had been hiding under the couch the whole time, the baby having fish-like features, scales on their cheeks, and then told him it was his.

Law shut his gaping mouth, pressing his lips together into a taut line. He didn’t know if he should be glad or upset that the conversation had gone from serious to ridiculous in the span of a blink. But it’s really not that fascinating, he thought to say. The stomach, that is. But what the hell. It would be fascinating to watch Emil’s reaction to it.

“Okay,” he agreed. So long as it wasn’t his stomach. He expected she would only poke and prod at his stomach like an overly curious child examining some foreign thing in fascination. And the result would be a complete regurgitation of everything he just ate. To make her worry a little about how ‘dangerous’ it could be, he asked, “Are you sure? Are you sure you’ll still have your appetite, watching your stomach while you’re eating?”

Nonetheless, he wouldn’t have accepted hesitation or retreat on her part. He set down his cutlery, took her plate from her lap, and put it away on the table. Then he turned suddenly towards her, grabbed her shoulders, and pushed her down onto the couch. He rose to his feet.

“Wait here, I’ll get something,” he said. 

He returned within several seconds, holding a towel, which he drapes over Emil’s stomach. “Lie down,” he instructed. 

He retook his seat on a corner of the couch and leaned over towards her, his expression grim as though he was about to perform a surgery. The towel was completely unnecessary, of course, only for show. He rarely got to remove someone’s organs with their permission, after all. He pretended he was a magician, reaching under the towel to her abdomen. He splayed his fingers over her toned abs for a second, and then activated Room, and slid his hand upwards to her ribs, positioned over her stomach.

Just like a magician pulling out a rabbit from a hat, he removed her stomach with a plop and carefully pulled it out from under the towel. He wrapped her stomach in the towel and, with both hands, he presented it to her. It crossed his mind that he was not unlike a doctor delivering a baby, wrapped in a blanket, into its mother’s arms, and that realisation perturbed him momentarily that he couldn’t even joke about it. He averted his gaze and shifted away to the side so she could sit up if she wanted. 

“There,” he said, fixing his gaze on his plate. “Now, don’t blame me if you lose your appetite. I would just finish off everything on your plate.”

* * *

**Lizard**

If Emil's grin grew a bit wider, it would split her face. He agreed to her _stupid_ request! She simply snorted at his questions though, further dismissing them with a handwave; Emil had eaten in gore coated places just fine - there was no reason for her to lose appetite over the fact she held her own - Law's powers treated - stomach in her hands. As long as she didn't prod at it too much, there shouldn't be any issues. She stopped bouncing only when Law pushed her onto her back... Instead, she wiggled her feet. "Okay~" she sang, instructed to wait and while she did, indeed, wait for Law to come back, Emil pondered his request that she warns him whenever she wants to hug him. Or was it a demand? Even if it was, Emil decided to read it as a _request_. It seemed reasonable enough anyway and Emil was willing to play along, but was there any way to mess around with this term? Could she somehow talk Law into adjusting it in certain situations? Having an obvious idea, Emil giggled when Law returned with a towel.

She giggled further when Law slid his hand under the towel and her shirt - her muscles tensing for a brief second. "Cold," she whined humouredly, though it was only a half-truth - there was a better chance of a snowball in hell that Emil's admission Law's touch ever so _slightly_ tickled her. If prodded, she could always make an excuse that Law's 'magician' act was funny. And to think some people (Emil included) claimed Law was a party pooper.

Emil sat up and put her forefinger into the now gapping, square hole under her chest. And again, and again, making a buzzy noise all the time. It felt odd. Not exactly nice, but not bad either. Just odd. Both on her finger and inside the hole. Like pins and needles when one's leg falls asleep but less intense. It was amusing and fascinating and Emil had no idea why Law would pull out his own heart to torture himself by squeezing it but never to poke his fingers into those holes. Then again, maybe he had, but Emil had simply never witnessed it.

"Really, Law, don't worry." Emil took the bundle from Law and, holding it up in left hand, unwrapped it. Stroking a non-existent beard, she squinted at the stomach, scrutinising it. She's heard those cubes looked like made out of glass but even to her haki they seemed... Transparent. As if they were there but not at the same time, making it easy for her to sense the content as well. "Worst case scenario, you'll just get to eat my portion too." Emil gave the cube a careful poke. The stomach gave out a soft gurgle but nothing else happened. Emil hummed and poked her stomach harder, wondering just how much abuse it would take... Not much. Feeling a wave of nausea, Emil set the stomach on the table, beside her plate. "Well, that's more delicate than I thought it would be. Good thing it wasn't my main point." Swinging from side to side, Emil stabbed a piece of a (decently cut) potato with a fork and popped it into her mouth. She rushed the chewing and swallowed way too fast, coughing and laughing at how wiggly her stomach was.

"By the way, Law!" She snapped toward him and coughed into her hand one last time. "I gave your request I warn you before being affectionate a bit of thought and here's my counter-proposal." Leaning closer, Emil shifted to kneel on the couch so their noses - not an inch or two apart - were on the same level. "Yes, I will warn you when we are outside but while your sexy ass is onboard _Caramel_ , I will do no such thing. The moment you step a foot onboard my ship, better be ready for unannounced hugs. On the flip side, I will _ask_ for permission when my smoking hot ass is onboard _Polar Tang_." Did she have an ulterior goal to see if Law's desire to eat her food would be stronger than his distaste for random affection? Yes.

Jumping back to the previous topic, Emil took Law's hand and slid it into the gaping, square hole under her breast. It once again felt like gentle pins and needles on her end, but... "Do your fingers feel odd?" Holding Law's hand in place, Emil slumped back to sit cross-legged. "My fingers felt as if they were asleep when I stuck them in before; do yours feel like that too? And have you done that before really? Stuck fingers in those holes your powers leave when you remove an organ. It would certainly be a better pastime than the heart squeezing." Emil giggled and shifted Law's hand a bit. "Sticking fingers in human body holes is a good pastime in general."

* * *

**Lena**

Law watched as Emil played hokey cokey, stabbing her finger in and out of the gaping hole in her chest where her stomach had been, and confusion, amusement, fascination, in no particular order, flickered on his face as though it were a flipbook animation. He was impressed with Emil’s curiosity - a childlike curiosity rarely witnessed in adults. In a way, he was learning new things from her every day he spent in her company. In all the years he had taken out and examined his organs (and the organs of many others), he had never tried a thing like this. Because it had seemed pointless - though it had happened once, by accident, when someone’s finger had entered the hole missing his heart, and it made him feel violated. He was protectively of his holes, from then, if and when he removed his organs, but also on every other occasion.

Emil looked entertained as she examined and prodded her stomach - a bold act, he had to give it to her. Needless to say, he had never tried that before, though it was one of the things he liked about her, the way her mind worked, how she found something fun in seemingly mundane things, how she enlivened life, in a way. Granted, he was probably also another ‘mundane thing’ that he thought she perhaps derived fun out of surprise-hugging him.

“Well, I have to thank you for helping me discover a new torture technique,” he said, with a gleeful glint. “Stomach-poking, the most nauseating tactic guaranteed to produce projectile upchuck. By the time I’m done, they’ll be a drooling mess.” He eyed her stomach as it worked on digesting what she’d swallowed. 

His fork suspended mid-air when she called out his name, the intonation of her voice suggesting he better give her his full attention (at least, to him it did). So he did. He met her eyes, and raised a brow when she deemed his ass ‘sexy’. Flattery, from Emil? He had never heard her use the s-word to describe him or his ass--but, never mind. Apparently her ass was ‘smoking hot’ and he was not a linguist, but surely ‘smoking hot’ trumped ‘sexy’? Part of him couldn’t believe he was thinking hard about all this nonsense. 

He stared wordlessly at her at her counterproposal. For once, it didn’t sound too ridiculous, in his opinion. It actually sounded...fair. He decided he would just have to get better at dodging, or learning to read her body language when a hug was incoming. For instance, if he could detect a tell just before the hugs--though, ultimately, the hugs weren’t so bad, he had to admit. As long as it was just the two of them, and Bor. In public, it was different. Nobody hugged Blackbeard in public. The repercussions in terms of the damage done to his reputation would be unavoidable.

“Well…” He frowned, pretending to give her counter-proposal very in-depth consideration. “...Fair enough.” He looked back at her. “Your ship, your rules. I can abide by that.” He pulled a smile as an idea came to mind. “How about this? You can only hug me when I’m here. If you need to hug me elsewhere, you must first invite me to the Caramel, and we’ll commence the official hugging only when we’ve stepped onboard your ship. Oh, but not on the deck. Unless it’s pitch-black outside.” His smile broadened. “My counter-counter-proposal. Otherwise, if you ask my permission, and I say no, you have to respect that.”

His hand felt numb when she slipped it into the hole in her chest, and he noted with interest how she seemed to be picking up on his habit to ask a number of questions at once. Or perhaps it was an excitement elicited from him fingering her hole. His brows rose at her comment about fingering holes being a good pastime, and he tried to suppress a smile before he gave up trying.

“My fingers feel like they’re burning,” he lied, for no purpose at all. “And no, I have not stuck my fingers in my holes, thank you for asking. I haven’t had any reason to do that, and I still don’t.” He made no effort to pull his hand out of her stomach-hole. “And, not really?” He turned towards her with a frown. “It’s not a good pastime sticking fingers in your mouth or nostrils. Though if that’s something you enjoy, I will gladly indulge you.” He nodded gravely, like he meant every word. Then he raised his fork and waved it at her. 

“Know what would be a better pastime in general?” He paused, flashing a knowing smile. “A better pastime, would be making holes in human bodies. The deeper, the better, right? Better yet, gouging holes deep and wide enough that one might as well amputate the entire limb. See, it’s a good pastime taking things apart, then refixing them back together. It gives me a certain high, the power to remodel something. But, fine, fingering holes can come in second best.” He bobbed his brows. “Anything else you want removed, while I’m feeling particularly generous?”

* * *

**Lizard**

Emil put away her fork and gave out a long, thoughtful hum, her eyes wandering aimlessly over the window opposite them. Law's counter-counter proposition was utterly unacceptable and there was not the smallest chance Emil would roll along with it. Really, Law must have known her enough already to know that - he surely was fishing for something more favourable for him, yet not as unrealistic. The question was: how much was Emil willing to give in.

Despite Law's words, that his fingers are burning, Law made no movement to remove them - neither after stating that, nor before - so Emil kept her hand on top of Law's, intending to hold his in place even if he acted as if his fingers were past the blistering stage and were about to start shedding skin and muscles, leaving only bone. "You know, I don't think I've ever stuck my fingers into someone's nostril..." Emil trailed off, squinting as if trying to recall something but started picking her nose with her free hand, not caring what damage it might do to Law's appetite. "I stuck my fingers into someone's mouth and it was mildly enjoyable but that was during sex, I don't think it would hold the same appeal if done on its own." Emil dug a bugger out of her nose and, for a brief second, considered popping it into her mouth just to watch Law's reaction, but decided against it. Even she wasn't _that_ disgusting.

Letting go of Law's hand on her stomach hole, Emil rolled to the opposite end of the couch and grabbed a tissue pack from a drawer there. "No, I think I have stuck my fingers up someone's nose already. It makes for a surprisingly good way of holding someone in place. It's up there with holding someone by their earlobe." Emil wiped her finger in tissue and winked at Law. "Earlobe is particularly effective if the victim in question has earrings." Was it one of the reasons Emil never wore earrings despite having pierced ears? Well, if it was, it was close to the bottom of the list for sure. 'Can't be arsed' took the first spot for sure.

Emil bobbed back to once more sit cross-legged beside Law, but this time she sat sideways, facing Law, her one knee touching his hip. "I can't say I agree with your idea of a pastime. While it's something I don't mind doing in the slightest, it's not something I derive pleasure from, per se. I might attack a bandit camp and turn all its members into human colanders, but it's the thrill of the hunt I go after, not the 'making holes'. To each their own, I suppose. Go have fun with that, my dear."

"Now..." Emil linked her fingers and - giving Law a studying look - she tapped her foreigners against her lips. "About this counter-counter-proposition of yours. No. The status quo at the moment is that I hug you whenever I feel like that and you get annoyed and try to wiggle out. We both know I would never agree to that and if you've thought otherwise even for a second, you're a bigger moron than I thought." Yes, she's just called him a moron. "Now, I'm going to give you two choices. Only two and you would have to give a _really_ spectacular set up for me to agree to anything else. First is very similar to my previous offer. Onboard _Caramel_ I hug you without warning, onboard _Polar Tang_ I ask for permission first and I give you a warning anywhere else. I would have thrown a promise to not hug you while other people can see us, but if you've stopped to give our past interactions a second of through, you would have noticed that I've already been doing just that." Emil shrugged. "Now, the second option-" Emil's lips curled into a mischievous smirk behind her linked fingers- "the same applies to the outside either of our vessels but rules on either of them are a bit more..." Emil took in a long breath. "Extreme. Unless the guest wishes to leave, the captain can do whatever they want to with the body of the guest. Do themselves, not order." Emil motioned at Law's top. "If I want you shirtless, I can't just order you to take it off. I have to take it off myself but the only way you are allowed to stop me is by expressing your desire to leave _Caramel_ and then promptly do so. Are we clear?"

Emil realised the second option technically did not stop her from attempting to hug Law while onboard _Polar Tang_. It only gave Law permission to restrain her after the first attempt but she sure would love to see his reaction when he ralises that after agreeing.

* * *

**Lena**

Law refrained from the usual theatrics and did not act like his hand was burning to the bone. He let Emil hold his hand, deciding he would think of the prolonged hand-holding as nothing but a training of his tolerance, in hopes that would discourage her from holding onto it longer. 

Her blatant nose-picking had not ruined his appetite, and he might not even have lost it if she had flicked the booger into his food, though he would be annoyed that it would spoil the flavour of the food. He drew his hand back, watching with mild surprise as she deposited the booger safely in a tissue. He half-expected her to eat it to disgust him – he would only have challenged her to eat another.

Law resisted the urge to cover his ears when Emil subtly threatened about of ear-pulling. He shifted a little in his seat, and set his plate down on the coffee table. He chewed mechanically as he contemplated her analysis of the different methods of restraining a person by the mere usage of fingers being stuck in holes and grasping earrings. “You’re right, I can’t imagine any appeal sticking fingers into someone’s mouth. Let’s not forget the presence of their teeth, which in most scenarios they’d be inclined to use,” he said with a grave expression. “I can’t say I’ve stuck fingers up anyone’s nostrils or into their mouths. Maybe I’m missing out.” He glanced at Emil and held up three fingers. “And your suggestion of earlobe-pulling would depend on: A, the extent of the victim’s desperation; B, their level of pain tolerance; and C, the kind of earrings they’re wearing.”

He raised an eyebrow, directing her an arch look. “Why, are you already considering methods of physical restraint should your handcuffs fail?” he asked. “And if we’re considering holding someone in place, it’s easier to just knock them out, unless you enjoy watching them squirm to free themselves. Though I find there’s more pleasure in holding someone in place without touching them at all. A brief flick of the finger is all I need.”

Their discussion was already surprisingly enjoyable. It felt like they were able to talk calmly about their differences and preferences.

“I can respect that. Everyone’s into different things, different interests. Even friends – occasional acquaintances aren’t expected to have everything in common,” he continued matter-of-factly. “It works better this way. You derive your thrills from the hunt, then you haul over the bodies and I turn them into human colanders, and we’re both satisfied and happy, my–” He considered adding a sarcastic ‘my dear’, like she had, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it.

He bristled when she called him a bigger moron than her expectations, his brows working into a deep furrow. He knew she would never accept his counter-counter-proposal that they could only commence official hugging ceremonies on-board the Caramel and indoors, safe from the public eye. He had wanted to see how far she would or could bent to accommodate his wishes. He shot her a look of disbelief after she’d explained both options she had put forth. He pondered them long and hard, and decided she must’ve thought him a bigger fool to think he would not realise the second option did not prohibit her from hugging him on-board the Tang. And after all that talk about him being capable of restraining someone with just the flick of the finger, it felt like he’d be eating his words if he chose the first option.

“Your second option isn’t much different from the current status quo,” he said, his tone imbued with disagreement. “Technically, right now, you can do with me whatever you wish, provided you are capable of it. The only difference your second option makes is that upon expressing a desire to leave, you would have to let me go, and stop whatever it is you were doing.” He frowned, giving it more thought as he stared down into his hands. He scooted back slightly on the couch and turned his shoulders halfway towards Emil.

“Right, to recapitulate, outside either of our vessels, there’ll be no hugging – as you said, you…have already been refraining from that.” He swallowed and gave a curt nod. “Good. I appreciate it,” he mumbled. He had not noticed she had avoided hugging him where others could see. “On-board the Tang, you will have to ask for permission still, and you will accept both yes and no answers, not just the former. And I will try to be fair and not abuse the latter. On-board the Caramel, you are allowed to hug me without warning and you could do whatever the hell you want. Tell you what, I’ll even throw this in. I’ll let you order me to do something, or anything, so long as it’s on-board your ship. If I do not wish to comply with your order, I’ll leave. How about that? And it still stands that if I express a desire to leave, you will stop whatever you are doing and I’ll show myself out.” He picked up his plate and resumed eating as he awaited her confirmation. “Oh, should we sign on this, or will our verbal agreement suffice?”

* * *

**Lizard**

As Law talked, Emil put her elbow on the backrest and her temple on her fist. Listening, she turned her head to the side, fixing her eyes on her stomach still plopped on the table. It still wiggled ever so slightly - probably - digesting. She wondered what exactly Law meant when he said 'human colander'. In her case, it was 'putting many stab wounds into another human being' but in Law's case, it could be the same just as well as 'removing multiple organs with his powers'.

What would happen if Law removed both halves of someone's lungs and then heart? Would there be three holes? Would they merge into one big hole? If Law removed all organs from someone's torso, one at a time, would there be more holes than flesh? Would they still be able to stand up as usual? What does happen when one gets stabbed or shoot into a hole? If fingers in it leave only this weird, static feeling and nothing more, are attacks the same? Emil would have to ask Law about that later. Or better test it out herself, without him knowing the details.

"I can't promise there will be no hugging outside our ships." Emil shook her head before bringing her blind gaze back to Law's face. "I can only promise I'll continue to refrain from attempts to hug you or to do anything else that might infringe your reputation of the emo edgelord while in public or with a reasonable chance anyone sees us. I won't hug you in a back alley as someone might look out the window, but if we are in the middle of a dark forest and there's not a soul around, I can try." She shrugged. "And you're free to try to stop me. After all, as you said so yourself, all you need to do to restrain someone is to flick your finger."

Emil gave out a low hum as she squinted her eyes. "You know what? I'll throw in order obeying too: while onboard Polar Tang, I will either do as told by you or leave." In Law's case, it was a double-edged sword. While it was highly unlikely for anyone other than Bor to witness their antics on Caramel, Law had an actual crew. They were smart enough to notice something's off when Emil suddenly starts doing exactly as told and inquiry. Then, they were only half a step away from figuring out Emil could order Law around while onboard Caramel. "Of course, neither of us goes around and babbles about this whole set up." She winked at Law. "While I personally don't care whether people know, or not, I'm aware it might hurt your... reputation."

"Well then, I suppose if you agree, to those terms, you can roll along with the first point on your now 'to do' list." Emil smirked, wondering not 'if' Law chooses to do it, but 'how'. "Kiss me."

Personally, Emil would kiss Law's ankle... By tipping Law over and lifting his foot up to her head level. 

* * *

**Lena**

The chicken and potatoes were spooned into his mouth and chewed heartily as Emil talked.

It sounded like nothing would change regarding any hugging done outdoors, but upon a spell of reflection, he couldn’t remember a time she had attacked him with a hug outside their vessels. As the topic dragged on, he felt silly for how in-depth they were going into all these terms, that he gradually lost the heart to counter. The fact that she brought up his precious reputation twice only reinforced the voice in his head that told him he was making a mountain out of a molehill.

A hug in the middle of the dark forest also sounded nice…

Kiss me, she had said. How bold to demand such of him immediately.

Sealing the agreement with a kiss – how could he not have expected it?

Law stared at Emil, unimpressed, but he did not display any hints of protest. For a few seconds, he kept his demeanour nonchalant, indifferent, as though he either hadn’t heard her or was pretending he didn’t. He worked his teeth into the chicken, savouring the taste of its seasoning. He would have looked like he was enjoying his meal if not for the furrow etched on his brow.

A kiss was just a kiss; wasn’t like it’d be the first they shared. He remembered that one. He had initiated it.

If she wanted a kiss, she would get a kiss. Of course, he couldn’t kiss her on the lips, because somehow with them there was always this unspoken competition to outdo the other in terms of creativity and possibly randomness. A kiss on the lips was too expected.

He shot her a sidelong glance through slightly narrowed eyes. “Very well,” he said. “Since the captain orders it of me, and I’m not yet ready to leave…” He set down his cutlery and plate and wiped his hands on his jeans. He shifted to sit cross-legged, and turned towards Emil. Then he leaned over, put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her down onto the couch (if she wasn’t holding her plate – otherwise, he took her plate and set it down safely). He hovered over her, his expression utterly solemn, a hand cradling her face. He lowered his face to hers, brought his lips to hers. His goatee brushed her cheek. He reached his other hand for her stomach.

A smile danced on his lips as he retreated back to his spot on the couch, her stomach held in his hand. It wouldn’t be the most ridiculous thing he had ever done. He kissed her stomach. He watched as it gurgled in delight. Joyous. He kissed it again – just a quick peck, mind; he wasn’t about to tongue it. He was inclined to accidentally drop it but he only slid it back into her chest. He picked up his plate and continued eating.

“I see no reason to babble about this set up.” He didn’t say she couldn’t, didn’t want to sound like he didn’t want her to do it. He didn’t. “So,” he said, glancing at her. “Are we good or what?”

* * *

**Lizard**

Emil waited patiently for Law's reaction - her head still propped on her hand, her smirk never wavering. It's been always like that with Law, wasn't it? He might be a fast thinker in the midst of a battle but if a situation did not require speed, he tended to think things through. Overthink even.

She arched an eyebrow when Law pushed her back, a weird sense of deja vu enveloping her - it was the second time he had done that in this very visit, god knew which time overall. Emil waited when he hovered over her, brushed his goatee against her cheek. Was he really going to kiss her on the lips? While Emil didn't mind a make-out session in the slightest, it would be... A tad disappointing.

Emil noticed the fact he grabbed her stomach twofold - she sensed his movement with her ever-active haki and... a slight wave of nausea. Law was gentle for sure, but perhaps because she's just eaten, her stomach seemed far more sensitive than it had been at first. Still, Emil couldn't help but giggle. She had to give it to Law - she had _not_ expected him to kiss her stomach!

"Yes," still chuckling, she sat up and cupped his cheek to tilt his head her way. "I suppose we are good." With her thumb, Emil stroke Law's cheek, let go and sat back forward - not even touching Law in any way, shape or form - to grab her plate back. "At least in this matter. Though I suspect we will have to work out any kinks eventually."

She tapped her fork against her lips, directing her gaze upward as if in thought. "For example, one way or another, I get you butt-naked. Don't claim it will never happen, because it has happened before and I have a feeling it's one of the reasons you even want to stick around." She popped a small piece of potato into her mouth and grinned. "Not as major as my cooking but still. Either way, let's assume I get you butt-naked, dispose of your clothes and then order you to do something ridiculous enough it warrants your leave. But you're naked. Your clothes are gone. My clothes are obviously too small. Would you actually leave _Caramel_ in this case? Does it count as me stopping you from leaving or is it your own pride? Would I be required to provide you with suitable covering first? It wouldn't work the other way around as I don't care the smallest bit and can walk butt-naked through the entire town - I've done that before." It's been a while though, maybe she should do that soon? Then again, she wasn't exactly ready to leave this island yet.

"I don't have plans to do that, but it's something to ponder about. How long do we have to be away for any orders to turn obsolete too? Is one step out and back enough?" They probably wouldn't need most of it but hey, Law didn't have a monopoly for overthinking things!

* * *

**Lena**

Law remained pliant as Emil cupped his cheek and tilted his head towards her. His eyes flicked towards hers with a questioning look and lingered on her as she stroked his cheek. Had she tried that over a year ago, he would’ve swatted away her hand immediately. Instead, he found himself a tad disappointed when a brief cheek stroking was all he got. It felt – unsatisfactory, unbalanced. What about his other cheek?

As he listened to her detail her hypothetical scenario, he blanched, his face growing paler by the second until drained of colour. His brows furrowed in apprehension. Hadn’t he called her Satan in the past? She was living true to his epithet for her.

Emil was right on every count. He was there not just for her cooking, and he could not bring himself to leave the Caramel (or anywhere, for that matter) in any state of undress. He wondered if she’d spare him his hat and sword, but then he couldn’t protect his dignity with those. He recalled, thankfully, he had the Ope Ope for means of teleportation, though that would still put him naked someplace else. He could otherwise teleport clothes from nearby, but there was no guarantee there would be clothes nearby. Moreover, he had no idea if Emil still had her seastone cuffs. He figured he’d have to bring a spare set of clothes and hide them somewhere the next time, and every other time he dropped by. Law dipped his head and pressed his fingertips to his temple, feeling his head start to spin.

“What a nightmare,” he muttered, his eyes falling shut. A second or two passed before he glanced up at Emil with an unimpressed look. “It would be greatly appreciated if you provided me with ample, suitable covering – my clothes, when I leave the Caramel, yes.” He managed a composed and solemn voice. “Why in heaven’s name would you dispose of my clothes?” he asked, pulling a frown. “It strikes me as an act of mischief meant to abuse the terms of our agreement. The agreement only works if we mutually respect it and abide by it fairly. Otherwise, won’t we each be competing to exploit as many loopholes as possible? Then one of us ends up at the bottom of the ocean.” He let out a sigh and sank back against the couch, bringing a leg up, bent at the knee.

“Sometimes you scare me with the things your mind can come up with,” he said, with a hint of respect. He draped an arm over the backrest and shifted to turn halfway towards her. “I know you’ll say this is the most unexciting and dull proposition, but listen, listen – I have another proposal.” He paused and waited until he got her attention. “Let’s scrap the whole thing,” he blurted. “Yes, everything we just agreed on, everything.” He nodded and raked a hand through his hair before gesturing vaguely at her. “Can you imagine any healthy and functional relationship operating on…rules and regulations?” he asked. “As long as rules are in place, it’s human nature to resist them, to find loopholes in them. Your hypothetical scenario already proves this. We’ve just agreed, but already you’ve found a way you could possibly exploit things. Not to mention, the very nature of our livelihood involves law-breaking.” He reached for his glass and tipped it to his lips.

“Of course, rules pertaining to violence and malice are another thing. I can’t have you endangering the lives of the crew. But since we’ve established a sort of…amity between our crews, that’s not an issue,” he added, setting down the glass. “Then, should we place rules on…friendship? Whatever this is. Labels are unnecessary,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Should our actions towards each other be forced, because of this agreement we made?” He paused, and held out his hand to suggest he was going to continue.

“How about, if you respect me, I’ll respect you in return. If I’m on the Caramel, you could issue orders as the captain, or you could make requests as a friend. I know, the latter hasn’t worked in the past, but that was on me. From now, I’ll comply with your requests as long as they’re reasonable. Not ‘take off your clothes and flash everyone in town’. If your concern’s more about the surprise hugs, that’s fine. I’ll accept them. And I’ll trust that you won’t dispose of my clothes.” Drawing in a breath, he summarised, “So, trust and respect, can we agree on just that? On the Tang, if you’re going to hug me, I ask that you do so when we’re alone, is that fine? That’s all I ask.”

* * *

**Lizard**

That was... Unexpected.

Highly favourable but unexpected. As much as Emil would love to claim it had been her intention to manipulate Law into suggesting that - after all, people were more likely to agree to an agreement they _thought_ they came up with - that would be a lie. Not once had she foreseen him to even _think_ of that as a possibility.

Emil opened her mouth, about to remark it she has said she had no clothes disposal in plans; or half of her clothes were baggy and at least _some_ were bound to be his size, but decided against it. She closed her mouth but kept her eyes wide open, staring at him. Apparently it was Emil's turn to take long seconds to think things through.

Was it because she pointed out she had never made him look bad in public? Could it be he had never noticed it, simply annoyed by all the times she had called him a moron or touched him? Had he thought her incapable of such consideration?

_If you respect me, I'll respect you._

Law's words played in Emil's mind and she finally closed her eyes, taking a deep, slow breath. As tempted as she was to keep her conclusions to herself, Emil decided it best to share them out loud. After all, they had already established that their relationship - whatever it was - suffered from a lack of frank communication. "That's the problem, isn't it?" Emil opened her eyes and directed them at Law's face. She wasn't smiling. There was no mirth or mischief in her features. Her expression could be considered blank if not for the slightest of frowns. "You think I don't respect you, Law." Was she offended? Not really. Maybe. Just the smallest smidge. More disappointed. "I do not bother with people I don't respect. I either ignore them or punch their teeth in. I don't talk with them." Her frown deepened. "I don't banter with them. I don't bother to call them out on their bullshit." Her voice rose. "I don't share my food with them. I don't put up with their pranks. I don't play pranks on them. I don't hug them, kiss them, fuck them because I don't even want to _touch_ them!"

Emil took a deep, whistling breath. By now, her eyebrows were pulled together and her back was as straight as it could get. "You'll respect me if I respect _you_? Ha! That's a good one, Law! I've always assumed you respected me back but I suppose I was _wrong_!" Emil jumped to her feet and shot her forefinger at the door. "Out." Her voice was now quiet, as she stared down at Law. Yes, she had worked herself into anger but she didn't care. She could forgive his nasty or inconsiderate comments on an occasion but she had always thought it flailing of a stubborn moron who tried his hand at banter but had no feel where the line was. Emil was _not_ going to stand for being disrespected by _him_.

"You either clear this out or get. The. Fuck. Out."

* * *

**Lena**

Law bristled, straightening upright and tensing up his legs, about to launch himself to his feet to stalk off, inclined to succumb to the rising indignation provoked by what he deemed an unwarranted reaction on Emil’s part to his words. His jaw clenched and his pulse quickened, but beneath the edge of anger in her voice, he thought he detected an undercurrent of bitterness, of hurt, and he paused. His brows were furrowed, but his anger had been tempered and replaced with confusion. He drew in a slow, steady breath and remained seated, his facial muscles taut but his expression otherwise composed.

“You misunderstand,” he said, in a low, controlled voice. Her anger surprised him. The last time he remembered her this upset was when he’d callously dredged up the subject of pregnancy. Fixing her a cold, hardened gaze, a heavy sigh escaped his lips and he sank back against the couch.

“I was not clear about what I meant,” he began. “There are different kinds of respect, aren’t there? You can respect someone you dislike, an enemy for their guts, their shrewdness, their strength. There are different things you can respect in a person – their morals, their opinions, their differences, their likes and dislikes. You may have respected me in some ways, but when you surprise me with a hug, even knowing it’s you, that surprise makes me tense. Which is why I asked for some advance notice, and if I tell you I’m not in the mood, you have to respect that. You have to respect that there are some things I don’t like – I know, I have no right to ask that, when I was guilty of doing the same to you. I did not spare a consideration for your feelings on more than one occasion, and that's something I should change. But if you respect someone, you don’t try and change them, what they like or dislike. That’s more the nature of respect I meant.” He held up his hand to gesture that he was not done, if she would allow him to continue.

“You’re wrong if you thought I didn’t respect you, on the whole,” he added, his voice quiet and calm. “I had to have some respect for you to keep returning, Emil. Like you said, why would I bother fraternising with someone I disrespected? I don’t just come here for the free food and sex, as you’ve suggested. I respect your strength, not just your physical strength. Perhaps I respect your tenacity… I respect your struggle. Though I never had any idea what it was about me you respected, other than a bounty and reputation that’s meaningless in the end.” He swallowed a gulp of water, took another deep breath and sagged against the couch.

“I don’t know why I keep coming back. All the antics we pulled, I pulled…maybe I didn’t really know how to interact with you.” The admission – he couldn’t be certain if it was the reason, but nonetheless, his expression turned sheepish and contrite. He knew it sounded like an excuse although that was not his intention. “I don’t know what I felt for you, but when I was foolishly under the asinine misassumption that you were with child, I was tormented by unease, remorse... Yet I couldn’t bring myself to contact you sooner. Still, do you think I would've come looking for you, if I didn’t care?” He finally glanced up and met her eyes, the look in his eyes softened. “I think we respected each other in some ways, but not others. Am I wrong? Does this, does all that I said make sense - and if it doesn't, that is fine. I will leave.”

* * *

**Lizard**

Emil's chest rose and fell like bellows of a furnace. With firsts and teeth clenched, she stood there, glaring down at Law casually _lounging_ on _her_ couch. She felt like grabbing his feet, flinging him against the wall so his head hits a shelf corner before disposing of his body in the depths of the sea. She could do it. No one would know what had befallen the infamous Trafalgar Bloody Pain In My Ass Law. Perfect crime.

Only his crew would be sad.

Emil's eye twitched as she counted how many times the idea of Bepo's sad face had stopped her from literally splitting Law's head in two.

Too many.

'Different kinds of respect' he says. Of course, there are! You might respect an enemy. Yes. You might also respect a pig but it won't stop you from slaughtering it and eating it. If you respect someone you don't change them? Emil called bullshit on that. One _should_ change the people they respect. There were good and wrong ways of doing that but inaction and stagnation were _not_ okay.

Rolling her eyes, Emil groaned and massaged her temples. She wasn't glaring at Law _only_ because she closed her eyes - her deep frown didn't ease. "You _had_ to drag out the pregnancy thing _again_ didn't you?" She squinted at him. "I honestly wanna strangle you here and now if only for that." She laughed bitterly. "I guess _that's_ how _you_ feel whenever I hug you, yes?" Like a showman, Emil spread out her arms, except it was a nightmare show - her face was contorted in a crazed, bloodthirsty grin. "You get oh so _delightful_ flashbacks to when you were _broken_." Her voice was quiet but squeaked at certain words. "When _everything_ you've ever cared about was _taken_ from you and _destroyed_ right in front of you. That must be it, doesn't it? Or the stick in your ass is actually a morningstar and it's beyond removal. Well, either way." Emil moved her hands as if raising an invisible skirt in a curtsey. Her next words were sweet and velvety and dripping with sarcasm and venom. I'm oh so _sorry_ , my dear."

Emil stood up straight, looking at Law as if he was a rat gobbling on a pile of faeces it had just vomited.

 _Maybe_ it was only a misunderstanding. _Maybe_ they needed to sit down and have a polite chat. _Again_.

Emil scoffed. "Fuck you." She grabbed her shoes and trend to the door. "Fuck that. I need to punch something." She was too angry now to deal with this bullshiterry in a non-violent way.

She stopped in the doorway and pointed her forefinger at Law. "If you make here a mess while I'm gone, I _will_ murder you and no amount of sad Bepos will help you."

* * *

**Lena**

He let her leave. If she hadn’t, he would’ve.

Blood was rushing to his head, her farcical, caustic outburst making him see red. He was smouldering, resentment and rage clawing fiercely inside his chest, desperate to be unleashed. He wrestled with it for a beat and then several as he sat on the couch, his back stiffened up, fingers digging into the edge of his seat. The urge to destroy and sink her vessel prodded at him.

Fuck her. How dare she lash out, and then disappear, without giving him a chance to have his say? She had the nerve to silence him. Perhaps he should follow her example, go on some mad rampage through the town, working himself into a frenzy, and finally into bone-deep exhaustion till he was numbed and on the brink of collapsing. He would’ve, in the past. He could remember the fleeting satisfaction from violent means of catharsis; he could also remember the accidental and unintentional death of the child he had caused. The memory reeled in his growing rage.

Of course, she thought every time he brought up the topic of pregnancy was to piss her off. This time, he’d only mentioned it to suggest that incident had prompted a realisation, a realisation that he felt more for her than he believed he had, and for her to misinterpret his intention, for the sarcasm she reacted with, it was the twist of a knife plunged into his chest.

He knew he couldn’t blame her for misunderstanding, he knew he had previously mocked her pain too, he knew she, too, was hurt, but he remembered the scathing look in her eyes and felt another dose of resentment, for to him, he had exposed his feelings, opened up to her, to be mocked in return. A mistake, he should have kept his mouth shut, as he was wont to do – at least, regarding personal affairs, matters of the heart. It was mind-boggling to think everything had stemmed from the issue of hugging. He couldn’t understand why she couldn’t understand that he didn’t always like hugging, or surprise hugs. Even Bepo was declined from time to time.

He shot to his feet and began pacing, taking deep, slow breaths as he did, though the confines of the Caramel left him little room to walk off his anger. Something about being inside the Caramel and faced with a reminder of Emil everywhere he turned only aggravated him. He was about to stalk off the Caramel when he paused, glanced back at their plates of unfinished food, and hesitated. He pulled a grimace at his own train of thought, but nevertheless, he went along with it. Minutes later, he was washing up the dishes after putting away the leftovers. He scrubbed the cookware that had been used to cook their meal, towelled them dry, and put them away. He washed the two glasses he had used and stood back. Everything looked clean and tidy, so his job was done. She couldn't fault him for leaving the Caramel in a mess now. Though, it wasn't so much her threat he feared that spurred his actions, but a sense of not wanting to leave the unfinished meals as they were...a sense of closure. He could have peace of mind knowing he did what he could, and when he left, he never expected to return. He had nothing more he wanted to say to her. He would forget her, in time, or likely, he wouldn't. But that was fine. It seemed they made each other happier when they were apart...

With that, he stalked off the vessel and through the town, taking quieter and less-frequented paths towards the edge of the island where the forests stood. A walk through the woods usually calmed his mind within a few hours. Although the cleaning had quelled his anger, the restlessness and flurry of thoughts remained. Law trekked through the towering trees, his feet scrunching over the foliage padding the ground. Distant sounds of a flowing stream could be heard amidst the surrounding chirpy birdsong and the intermittent rustle of leaves. And piercing the serenity was the sudden thunderous thud that echoed from deeper within the woods. It made his heart jump, for it wasn't the kind of noise caused by natural circumstances, and certainly it wasn't the kind of noise he had expected. Someone was messing around. Annoyance was rekindled in him - was a quiet walk in the woods too much to ask for on a shitty day like this? 

Another thud followed, and then another - each growing louder in succession as he headed deeper and closer to the source of the disturbance. Law halted as he came upon a clearing in the woods. He saw the fallen trees lying in a heap before his eyes landed on the sole perpetrator, Emil, likely channeling all her anger into knocking down the trees like they were bowling pins. He let out a slow breath, watching her back for a brief moment.

"It takes over a hundred years for trees to grow to such heights," Law said. "Nature deserves none of your anger." (Not that he hadn't destroyed his fair share...) "You want a go? Come at me." He stood poised to dodge. He decided he would remain on the defensive. Perhaps a fight would exhaust them both.

* * *

**Lizard**

At first, Emil just ran. She had to exhaust herself. Let the steam out. Or someone _would_ get hurt. Through the streets. Over the rooftops. Eventually, she turned toward the forest. Maybe some bandits would be stupid enough to try attacking her.

It felt like a lie. One big lie. From the start. Was she just a toy to him? A little puppet to play with? A doll use and abuse and leave behind when he got bored with it? All those questions and doubts made her boil with anger. Made her desire to dig her fingers into Law's throat and rip it out. No one was going to treat her like a doll. Never _again_. 

Emil ran into the forest and slalomed between trees. She leapt over bushes and thorns, she slid under fallen logs. She rammed into a boulder and cracked it in half.

She stopped. Frowned.

There were ribbons.

Long strips of fabric tied around trees. Here and there. Not all of them but plenty around this one area.

Trees to be cut down.

"Perfect." Emil cracked her knuckles, coating her fists with armament haki. She's just found some punching target which, while still inappropriate, was the _least_ inappropriate.

-

Emil stood in between fallen trees when Law approached her. She had noticed him. Of course, she had - there was not a single other human being around them. Was he tracking her? It was an option. Or ventured to the forest to blow his own steam too and followed the thunderous thuds, unaware it was her. Emil gave Law the benefit of the doubt and simply stood there, examining her bleeding knuckles, waiting for Law to speak up or go his own way... That had been stupid of her, wasn't it? To opt not to coat her fists with haki on the last tree. She'd put enough to crack the trunk but not enough to protect her skin. It broke and bled and stung. Had she really thought that this pain would avert her mind from the other? It had never worked before. Why try now?

"Moron." She scoffed at Law and picked a ribbon from the sparse undergrowth - it must have slipped off one of the trees when she punched it. "Those mark trees to be cut down." She let it go and it fluttered to the ground. "Since when are you such a tree hippie anyway?" He's never been and he wasn't right that moment, but Emil didn't care. She had calmed down but his presence still made her anger bubble.

She regarded his stance. Was he serious? Was he seriously thinking she would _agree_ to fight him? That she was stupid enough to try it? In the open? Without her knives? Law's fruit powers were a huge hurdle to overcome and like hell Emil was getting in a fight with Law without a way to negate them. "Don't be silly." Emil snorted without mirth but coated her fists in armament haki again. She's never seen it for herself but Monie and Jaya had told her it made her skin on her hands and forearms turn glistening black. "Why would I fight you?" Emil turned away from him and approached one of the fallen trees, where the branches began. "You've said so yourself - you can restrain someone with a flick of one finger." She axed a branch with a side of her open palm. A branch as thick as a grown's man shoulder. It toppled but stayed aloft, held in place by the tangle of its thinner branches and leaves. "You can go away." She waved at him dismissively. "I'll just clean up those trunks and go back to Caramel." She grabbed the branch and yanked it out of the tangle only to drop it onto the ground beside the main trunk. "Now at least I know you're not on Caramel anymore so _hello_ and _go away_. No one here feels like listening to your ramble anymore."

Emil kept her hands covered in haki. Just in case Law thought about jumping at her anyway. A fist to the jaw would certainly make him lighter of a few teeth.

* * *

**Lena**

His countenance a grim expression, Law disregarded Emil calling him a moron, disregarded her explanation that the trees were meant to be cut down. Up close, he glimpsed her bloodied and bruised fist. He couldn’t tell from one glance if there were any broken bones, but knowing that Emil, on her own, had self-destructive tendencies, he wondered if she’d used her armament haki or had intentionally used her bare fists. He kept silent, maintained a defensive stance, figured some action would be good where words failed.

Watching as her hands and forearms turned glistening black, he braced himself for her attack, and was surprised and confused when she dismissed him instead. He’d seen her manic, bloodthirsty grin earlier, looking like she wanted nothing more than to rip and shred him apart with her fingers. It was a little disappointing, for he would’ve relished the fight, it’d have helped to purge his frustrations.

“Me, go away?” he scoffed. “It’s not your goddamned forest, is it. I’m here to enjoy nature, do a bit of forest bathing, embark on a stroll in peace and quiet, and I’ve been greatly perturbed by all the noise you’re making.” He averted his gaze, his chin jutted out. “I’m not in the mood for your rambling and sarcasm either.” He turned on his heel and diverted to the right. He decided to continue walking in that direction, putting as much distance between them as possible. He had no idea how he went from that decision, to the next, but fifteen minutes later, having acquired – stolen an axe from town, along with two pairs of safety goggles, he returned to the spot he’d last seen Emil in.

Without speaking to Emil, also without getting in her way – he stayed clear of her fists, for sure – he left his sword against a tree, tossed one pair of goggles in her direction (while technically she didn't need her eyes, he thought it was best a splinter of wood didn't poke one out), put on the other pair, and carried the axe up to the pile of tree trunks Emil had knocked over. He coated his forearms and hands with armament haki and hefted one of the logs away from the pile. Aware of Emil’s movements in his peripheral vision, he deactivated his haki and swung the axe down with brute strength, working on chopping the log down into firewood. If she allowed him, he worked quietly alongside her in cleaning up the trunks, chopping them down, and stacking the firewood into neat piles. They were inadvertently doing the work free for the lumberjacks, but if not a fight, it was the closest thing to physically exhausting himself.

* * *

**Lizard**

Not her forest he said. Well, neither was it his and she was there first so it stood she had more right to be there and demand he leaves than the other way around. No time for her her rambling and sarcasm he said. Well, first of all, a pot calling a kettle back and second of all, it was all the more reason for him to go away - no need to stand her ramblings.

Emil cleared the fourth trunk off its branches by the time Law came back. She expected him to claim he forget something and start a longwinded tangent that would throw her into another spiral of rage. To her surprise, he threw her a pair of goggles but said nothing. Good. No talking. Maybe that's for the better. They had thought the lack of honest communication was their problem but the opposite only led to them getting angrier with each other than ever before. Maybe they should have swung the other way and go with as little words as possible.

With a raised eyebrow, Emil eyed the goggles. She didn't need them. While having something stuck in an eye certainly wasn't appealing, she could simply close her eyes and relay on her observation haki and reflexes to avoid anything splintering into her face... The goggles were nice though. Well made, with a neat design and Emil had no idea where Law had gotten them from. She shrugged and put them on. But slid them up to rest on her forehead - she was _not_ giving Law the pleasure of putting them on correctly. The fact she wore them incorrectly would probably aggravate him more than if she disposed of them. Even better.

Emil turned to start clearing the fifth log when Law started... Chopping one of the logs... Into firewood? Two questions popped up in her mind at that. The first was would he be dramatic enough to take off his top and act like the sweat-covered macho lumberjack all the ladies fawn after? The second was why?

She stepped over to him and stood with her arms crossed and eyebrow raised - far away to have plenty of time to dodge if he opted to hurl this axe at her, but close enough it was clear she had something to do with _him_. "You know..." As little words as possible. As much as she considered him an utmost moron who worried about nature yet had just proven inconsiderate to innocent humans, she opted not to voice this opinion this time. "For all we know, they were to be cut down for a log cabin, not firewood." She turned away and returned to her branch removal from the fifth log. Unless someone wanted to use them for some very weird fake tree sculpture, she saw no reason why they would want the branches on the log. On the other hand, it was quite hard to make construction logs, beams, or planks out of firewood.

* * *

**Lena**

A frown marred his brow when he noticed Emil had put the goggles on only as an accessory, pushed up her forehead, rather than for its practicality, worn over her eyes. He shrugged inwardly. Wasn’t his business; he’d done what he could, and he certainly wouldn’t bother finding her a glass eye replacement if she poked her own eye out.

Law didn’t pause when he first noticed Emil’s approach. Neither did he glance up at her. He divided up the log into shorter logs and placed one on a stump before taking aim and swinging the axe down. He knew she expected his attention, and he didn’t want to surrender it that easily, though upon hearing her words, he paused for a split second before resuming splitting the wood.

“Everyone needs firewood one day,” he muttered. “Besides, I don’t aim to please or to do their bidding. Don’t be mistaken, I’m not doing this out of the goodness of my heart. I’m just like you, doing whatever the hell I like.”

He placed another log on the stump and swung the axe as Emil turned away. Then he paused. If he converted the logs into firewood and they wanted logs for a cabin, they’d have to chop even more trees. Of course, he wasn’t a tree hippie or an environmentalist. They were pirates, who typically wouldn’t concern themselves with such matters. He straightened up, axe suspended by his side, staring at the small pile of firewood. A log cabin, she said. In the blink of an eye, he was overcome with an irresistible, inexplicable urge to build a log cabin. He just needed to build one. He felt he would not rest if he didn’t build one before they sailed off.

“Hey,” he called out, with nonchalance. “Want to build a log cabin in the woods?” He expected she would scoff at the idea but nonetheless his eagerness prompted him to persuade her. “Not now. We’d need to clear the ground, remove these stumps,” he continued, his tone and expression utterly serious. “I don’t think we could use these logs, since they need to be debarked and dried first, the latter taking several months…but I could find dried logs in town. Tools, too. We could clear the area first, leave the logs aside, transport dried logs from town.” He swung the axe at a small arc, back and forth, back and forth, by his side as he took a few steps towards her. “We’d need to decide on the foundation and construction methods, but we can work it out. I can find someone in town to advise us.” He drew in a breath and exhaled slowly. “I don’t know. It would be cool,” he said, as if that explained his sudden desire. “I've never built a house before – cabin, whatever, same thing. How long are you staying on Yaren? I reckon this could take a few weeks or a month, depending on whether it's just us or if I get the crew to help.”

* * *

**Lizard**

_I'm just like you, doing whatever the hell I like_. 

Emil rolled her eyes at Law but said nothing. The bloody hypocrite was ready to throw punches at her no more than an hour earlier for punching trees down... Emil tore off a branch and sighed at her own thoughts. Okay, not a 'bloody hypocrite'. This was too strong of a description in this particular case. A 'bloody moron who can't make up his mind and be consistent' was more fitting. A moron. A fool. A mumbling idiot.

Emil paused her work when Law approached her with his... Unexpected suggestion. She just stood there with her eyebrow raised and look in the eye that she believed would fit an annoyed person who hadn't had their morning coffee yet. Still, she didn't hide the fact she noticed the axe swings and trailed her blind gaze after the movement. She wouldn't put it beyond Law to talk her into something so silly as log cabin building only to strike her with the axe when she least expected that.

Why log cabin though? Was he so captivated by the idea after Emil's casual comment? It wouldn't be the first time he'd transfixed himself with some ridiculous idea. Like the time he had brought a coffin with spiked pancakes to Caramel, dressed in a silly, flowy cape. And to think Law dared to call _her_ ridiculous.

"No, I've already built a house in a forest." Emil put her foot on a log and tore off another branch. "A treehouse when I was seven. A log house when I was eighteen." Emil would count it as two and a half house - Bor had destroyed the log cabin when she was nearly done by transforming into his giant form while inside. It had been her fault - she was the one who taught him to transform into the giant crow when she called out his full name.

Emil held out the branch and ran her eyes up and down, as it regarding it. Should she keep on holding it? Rest it on her shoulder, ready to swing back in case Law decided to swing the axe at her? She sighed, threw it overhead on the branch pile she had created so far. With arms crossed, she sat down on the log, eyes on Law. "You don't need my help with that, I'm sure your crew will be more than happy to build a log cabin with you." If his intention was to suggest he wanted to do it with _her_ , not just do it and she happened to be around when he thought of it, then he would have to be clearer about that. "Tell them to come up with ideas on how to deter people from breaking in while you're away. I'm sure their ideas with be mostly unreasonable but highly amusing. As to how long I'm staying on Yaren..." Puffing her cheeks, she swung back, 'looking' up at the sky as if thinking about it. "No idea. I hardly ever have any plans, after all. I suppose it depends on the people here. If they start annoying me or not." Should he claim she talked about him, she would deny, with a comment he once _again_ thinks her life revolves around him.

* * *

**Lena**

Emil would be mistaken if she’d thought he’d challenged her to a fight because she was knocking trees over. He’d only thought to volunteer himself as a more appropriate and satisfying target, sacrifice, and means of venting her anger. After all, it was he she was pissed off at – unless she was saving him, the best, for the last.

His brows lifted, an expectant and intent look appearing in his eyes, when he heard about her prior experience building houses. Unlike Emil, the idea of a fight or any ‘accidental’ offensive act had evaporated from his mind. He remained standing as she sat down, though he stepped closer with his arms relaxed by his sides, his eyes wide and fixed on Emil with interest. To him, it sounded like the idea appealed to her, that he may have practised a bit of selective hearing.

“Very good,” he said with a determined nod. “You’re just the person I need, then. With your experience, there’ll be less bumbling around and you’d already know of the mistakes we could avoid.” He cast his eyes around their surroundings. “Think this would be a good location to build?” He turned, raised the axe to rest it against his shoulder, and started pacing a little, ideas running in his head. “A treehouse would be completed in lesser time, but a log house would be a good challenge, more satisfying upon completion.” He paused and spun around back to Emil.

“Oh, I’m not building the house to live in it. I doubt I’d return, so break-ins wouldn’t be a problem,” he said, his gaze settling on her. “But I’m drawn to the idea of concealing traps all around to fortify the cabin the way one would a castle. And sure, the crew would have their fair share of ludicrous, creative, but nonetheless viable ideas.” He arched an eyebrow and gave her a faint wry look. “Not one of them can rival your inventiveness, however.” Perhaps he was resorting to a bit of flattery, but he did so brazenly. He stepped back to resume his task of splitting the wood. “Once we’re done here, what’ll you do?” he called out. “You sure you’re not bored enough to embark upon the task of building the world’s deadliest log cabin?”

* * *

**Lizard**

Emil's spine straightened. Her fingers tightened on her arms. Her eyes widened at Law's words. If she was a dog, all her neck hair would stand up rigid, her growl would resonate throughout this makeshift clearing. Had this _hypocritical_ bastard just disregarded her 'no' and carried on _assuming_ she would join him? Yes. _Hypocritical_. No more than two minutes ago she had pushed this label away, judging it too strong but now? NOW?

Emil groaned and deflated. She double facepalmed and massaged her temples with thumbs. "For fuck's sake, Law!" His last question made it _seem_ that his _seeming_ disregard for her denial was only _that_! A _seeming_ disregard. Was it him being a nasty prick or was it her frustration with him making her leap at _nothing_? 

Emil snapped a twig out of the nearby branch. It was no thicker than her thumb but long and with ample cleavage at the end. "Yes!" She stomped over to Law and swatted him across the shoulders, not caring if it hit his head. She put no haki in it, nor real strength - if she wanted to hurt him, she would have picked a branch, not a twig. "Yes, I'm positive I'm not bored enough to join _you_. I'm still mad at you, Law. Just because I'm somewhat civil, does _not_ mean everything's back to being sunshine and rainbows." She swatted him again. "Right now, watching paint dry would be better than building _anything_ with you. And I'm fucking _blind_!"

She groaned, threw the twig into the ground and stomped away, only to turn around and stomp back closer. "Tell me, Trafalgar Law." She poked his chest, mentally cursing their height difference because she couldn't get face to face with him. "Am I but a doll to you?" She poked his chest again. "Am I here for you to use and abuse? Do you think you can toy with me, do as you please and they throw me away? Disregard me when not needed or ignore my wishes when they don't align with yours? Tell me-" She fisted his collar and pulled him down, her voice now quiet and cold. "Do you think I'm your _toy_? Because where I stand if sure _feels_ like that."

* * *

**Lena**

Emil’s outburst etched a deep furrow on his brow, confusion flickering on his face before a dark cloud formed over his head. Her curse rang in his ears, but he couldn’t fathom what could’ve possibly triggered her anger this time. His eyes narrowed sharply at the snap of the twig. He stood his ground, stayed unmoving and tense, unblinking and unflinching, as she stomped over and swatted him with the twig, twice, and launched into a mini rant. He tightened his grip on the axe, and tried to rein back the anger swelling up in his chest with each word she spat out.

And here he was trying to suggest a project they could embark on together in an attempt of gradually, painstakingly patching things up between them. Could she not hear him when he said he needed her? Had he not sounded contrite enough back in the Caramel. It seemed they weren’t getting through to each other. By the time she fisted his collar, it’d felt like the last thread that had tethered them, that had already been stretched taut, had finally been severed.

Law lunged for Emil’s wrist and grasped it in a firm, crushing grip. Fixing Emil with an unwavering, wide-eyed stare, he wrenched her hand away from his collar and added pressure till his knuckles were white, clutching her wrist mid-air for a second or two before he relaxed his grip and shoved her hand back. He stepped forward and it was his turn to grab a fistful of her shirt.

“What the hell are you talking about?” he demanded gruffly, his eyes searching her face. He released her shirt after a beat. “When have I abused you? Go on, tell me how and when I’ve used and abused you, Emil,” he snapped, his voice raising a notch. “Verbally? Physically? Sexually? Tell me, go on.” He clenched his jaw and brought the axe down to his side, eyeing her throughout with a challenging look. “Yes, I do toy with people. I toy with people’s bodies all the time, dismembering, and reassembling. Funny, I never realised I’ve done anything like that to you.” His shoulders rose and sagged with a deep breath, his eyes averting from hers to glare over her shoulder at the pile of logs as he attempted to regain his composure.

“I don’t know what else to say to you,” he said, turning back to her with a level gaze. “I came for you, and I tried, and you know what, maybe that isn’t enough, and maybe that’s fine, maybe I don’t need you at all, and neither do you need me.” He swallowed thickly and drew in another deep breath. “If you feel that way, if I’ve upset you this much, maybe we’re better apart, with nothing more to do with each other. I know I’ve made my mistakes aplenty, in the past, and I’ve apologised, and I know, that's not enough. Perhaps they are irreconcilable now.” He tossed the axe to the side and tugged off his hat. He dragged his fingers through his hair, grasping his hair in a fist, before dropping his hand back to his side. “I don’t think this is worth trying for any more. For both our sakes, I'll leave. I'm done.” He turned to step away to grab his sword. Unless she stopped him, he strode off into the distance. The words ‘ _I’m sorry_ ’ lay heavy and unspoken on his tongue.

* * *

**Lizard**

"I don't know either!" Emil screamed into the sky and swallowed a ball of bile forming at the back of her throat. Biting her lip, she took in a slow breath, trying best _not_ to shake. She didn't know and _that_ was the bad part. Had he considered her a doll to toy with the whole time and she's never noticed it? She didn't know. She couldn't say for sure. This idea _terrified_ her.

She sniffed and let herself collapse to the ground. She pulled her legs close and hid face between knees. "I don't know." She mumbled and took a deep, strained breath. She raked her fingers through her hair and continued the movement, wrapping arms over herself. Why, just why had she sent Bor to play with other birds? She could use his support now. His comforting warmth.

How many times had she thought he wasn't as bad? Not as bad as his son. Only to be _painfully_ reminded he had been the sole reason they had been going through it _all_ in the first place. My little doll he had called her. My little _rag_ doll.

Emil sniffed again. The sound now wet and weak - she had to force air through all the snot now in her nose. She lifted and turned her head, about to grab her backpack, but passed, realising she had forgotten she hadn't taken it. Breathing through her mouth, she lowered her head again, as if looking at herself... Gave out a weird sound that was neither fully a snort, nor a cough, nor a 'meh' hum, grabbed the hem of her shirt and loudly blew her nose into it.

* * *

**Lena**

Law halted at the sound of Emil’s scream and balled his fists by his sides, his face scrunching up in irritation. He continued onward a second later, pausing by a tree only to stoop down and reach for his sword. He straightened up, about to take his leave, when he heard Emil sniffing behind him. He gritted his teeth, tilted his head, and cast his eyes towards the skies painted orange as dusk was beginning to fall.

With an exasperated sigh, he lowered his head and turned around, his brows furrowed, lips pinched together. His eyes landed on Emil, sitting huddled on the ground, compressing herself into the smallest ball possible. He could tell she was in distress, from the motions she made as though trying to soothe herself. He’d never seen her this shaken up. It was like something in her had cracked. Further unsettling him was that she seemed to be crying. He’d never seen her cry. She looked broken, and he felt a pang of guilt as her words flitted through his mind. She did look like a toy he’d used and discarded.

Except it wouldn’t be the first time, not the first time he used and left someone behind.

He averted his gaze to the side, staring in the direction he had come, the route that would take him back into town, within minutes he would have cleared out of the woods, and he could put all of this behind him. He should have put all this behind him ages ago. Nothing good would come out of him staying, as evidenced by all their encounters thus far. History would laugh in his face. He couldn’t help her. He should just leave.

He found his feet foolishly striding towards Emil. He came to a stop in front of her and dipped his gaze.

“You’re hopeless,” he said, his tone tinged with concern, words directed partially towards himself. “Hold my sword,” he added, thrusting it out to her. “I’ll take you back.” He meant to the Caramel, by means of carrying her piggyback. If she willingly took his sword, he crouched down before her with his back facing her. He waited for her to put her arms around him, if she would, before he supported her legs with his hands and pushed to his feet.

* * *

**Lizard**

Why wouldn't he just leave?

With her forehead against her knees, Emil blew her nose into her shirt again. Why wouldn't he just leave? He's done enough harm already. He always came back. Always hurt them. He always said she was precious to him. That he needed her. Of course, he did. That's why he took them. Her to use. Him to make sure she stayed obedient. She was precious. He was useful. A tool. A thing, not a person. Valued only when used. Disregarded otherwise. Sharpened with stones. Shaped with force. You're hopeless. Useless. You failed again, little rag doll. Hold this sword and do it _properly_ this time, or...

Emil held the sword and stood up. She weighted the weapon - it was nicely made but something she wasn't used to. She wouldn't be able to utilise it properly. Where were her knives? She lent down and picked up a twig. It was Long and flexible and unassuming. If she coated it with her haki, she could surprise her potential opponents and hit them harder than an oversized sword. "I held it." Emil's voice was flat and a bit nasal. Her nose was blocked. She should do something about it soon - it was harder to run with a blocked nose. Emil handed the sword back. "Is that all?" What was his name again? "Law?" As far as she could recall, he wasn't a danger. 

She plucked leaves off the twig. "I should get back to my ship - it's safer there." She rose her head a bit. "It's getting colder. Is it already dark?" She felt the wetness near the hem of her shirt. Had someone spilt something on her? She couldn't recall. She didn't even try - it didn't matter after all. In one smooth motion, Emil took the shirt off and blew her nose in its very middle.

* * *

**Lena**

Law stared in confusion as Emil hefted his sword and then picked up a twig. Stupefied, he scrutinised her demeanour – he couldn’t pinpoint the exact second it had happened, but something had changed. Her voice, her expression – gone was the anger, gone was the sadness. She seemed to have reverted to sort of a blank slate. Law took his sword back, recalling the last time Emil had switched to this void state of hers, a long time ago, on her birthday. He hadn’t known what was happening then, though from observing her, he’d reckoned it was similar to the dissociation he’d seen in some who had been subjected to trauma. He hadn’t examined her much in her void state back then, so he couldn’t be certain he knew what was happening or what she was experiencing, but she seemed to remember him, somewhat, though it seemed other memories were carefully locked away. He watched as she took off her shirt to blow her nose but didn’t tell her to put it back on when she was done.

“Yeah, I was about to head back, anyway. The sun will have set in about…an hour, by my estimation,” he said, finally, after a brief silence. “How’re you feeling?” he asked, before adding, “I’ll walk back with you. You know the way?”

* * *

**Lizard**

Emil took in a breath. Her nose was still blocked but it was better than before. She shifted her hold on the shirt and wiped her face - it felt as if something was stuck to it. She paused and reached up to her head. Goggles? Why was she wearing goggles? She let her haki flow in all directions around them while staying motionless. She couldn't sense anything that would require her to wear those. Nor places to dispose of them. "Thank you, I'm fine," Emil spoke in the same, emotionless tone and turned away toward the port, her shirt and goggles in hand. She didn't sense any danger so she could do the nice thing and throw those goggles into a bin, not ground. "Caramel should be in the port. I'll find it."

Emil paused. What did she know about this town? About people living there? Not much. She didn't want to attract attention. Attention was a magnet for trouble. She faced Law. "Do you think it will bother people?" She put her hand on her chest, on her bra. It was a simple sports bra. Many people exercised in public, wearing those and nothing on top. Most started viewing them as a normal outfit but there were still areas where it was met with scrutiny. "Or should I put a shirt back on not to attract attention?"

* * *

**Lena**

Law exuded bewilderment at Emil’s question – not that the question was a conundrum, or that it necessitated more than a split second of thought. He’d heard from Emil about her prancing-around-in-the-nude adventures, and he’d found her in the nude on a deserted island, that he would not have expected her to be bothered about attracting attention. He glanced over her sports bra.

“It’s never been in your character to bother about bothering people,” he mused dryly, removing his goggles and holding on to them. “Do as you like. But maybe keep your pants on.”

He accompanied Emil out of the woods, all the while aware of the direction in which they were heading. She seemed to have her bearings, and he noticed they never strayed from the path towards the port. If Emil had opted to keep her shirt off, a few pairs of eyes were cast their way in scrutiny as they navigated through the town, and they earned a few disapproving looks from the elderly islanders, though none of the passers-by stopped them on their way or gave them trouble. If she allowed him, Law followed her onto the deck of the Caramel, though that was where he paused, debating on whether he ought to enter. He lingered, watching her, as though waiting for something.

* * *

**Lizard**

Okay, Law was useless. At least when it came to receiving basic info from him. A skilled fighter, a gloomy but caring leader, not exactly friendly toward her but sort of leaning in that way, smart, a moron, not helpful with info. That's all she knew about him and that's all she really needed.

Emil entered Caramel and noted Bor napped in the very middle of the coffee table. She walked past it and to the kitchen, where she found her belt with throwing knives. Leaving the shirt and the goggles on the counter, she wore the belt and returned to the lounge section. "Are you coming in or not?" She spoke back to Law who stayed at the doorway but her attention was on her knives - two at a time, she slid them out and back in, checking if they pulled out without snagging. "I'm going to set sail and dock by some beach. Away from people." The last thing she needed was for Law to decide he needed to leave at the very last moment, try to jump off only to slip and hit his head on the dock. Marines might be delighted at the news of his death, but it would spell trouble for her from his crew.

Content with the knife examination, Emil stepped back to the exit, but instead of stepping up and out, she turned downstairs, toward the storeroom under the deck. "I don't mind if you want to come along." 'Don't care' was more accurate but that was rude. Rude caused problems. Problems were dangerous. Without really waiting for his reply - Caramel was a small ship - she could hear him - Emil entered the storeroom and checked supplies.

* * *

**Lena**

He eyed her curiously from the doorway, observing the way she checked her knives. Her impromptu decision to set sail suggested to him an urgency to safeguard herself from harm. It seemed Void Emil would take all and any precautions to reduce the chances of danger. He watched her disappear downstairs, though he lingered in the doorway, half in and half out of the Caramel, pondering her offer to tag along.

“This a random beach or one you’ve already decided on?” he called out. “For how long?” He would be interested in making the journey with her, but he had to weigh his responsibility towards his crew against his responsibility to Emil, a…friend. He reasoned that both sides could take care of themselves well enough in his absence, but he’d put behind him the times he would’ve just upped and left the crew without an advance notice, if possible. While they’d understand his reason for leaving this time, while he could contact them from the Caramel and once they’d docked on that beach – a hesitance dwelled within him. After everything he’d been through with Emil, he questioned how much help he could be.

Law waited until Emil emerged from the storeroom before he stepped towards her and thrust a small den den mushi into her hand. “You can reach me with this. Contact me when you dock with your location. I might journey there.” He gave her another look over, as though debating whether she would be fine on her own, with Bor. “Are you setting off now?” If she was headed to town for a supply run, he would accompany her, whether or not he was invited.

* * *

**Lizard**

"I haven't decided yet," Emil called back, checking the content of boxes. She could sense how full or empty they were with her haki but not exactly full of _what_ they were. Powder could be flour, sugar, salt, black powder and so on. Grains could be short rice, barley, tiny metal bearings, gravel and so on. "I don't know the area, I'll have to scout and only then decide where to anchor." Even when she spoke up, her voice was monotone and void of emotions. "I don't know for how long either. It would depend on the place I find." If she finds no nice place to anchor in, she might return to the port, stock on extra supplies and then sail the sea - perhaps the next island would be safer in her opinion.

Note done with her investigations but happy with what she had found so far, Emil returned to the lounge area - it was rude to leave guests unattended for too long.

Emil turned the den den mushi between her fingers before setting it on the coffee table, beside Bor. "Okay, I'll contact you." She still didn't mind him coming over, nor even his whole crew. "When Bor wakes up, but before night." Emil was getting sleepy herself, but she knew her body could function well for the next couple of hours. She didn't know how tired Bor was and she couldn't safely sail a ship as big as Caramel on her own.

When Law left, Emil checked the rest of the storeroom and fridge. Bor awoke on his own before she was done. He was upset but calmed quickly. They set sails and left the port within minutes thereafter.

-

She called him later. It was dead of night by that time. Three, maybe four times later - Emil's always been rubbish with keeping track of time. She described her new location, how to get to it. Told him that yes, she was fine. Only sleepy and tired.

* * *

**Lena**

Law took a detour through the town on his way back to the Tang as he turned over the day’s events, beginning with his hours-long search for Emil in the market, in his head. To say that the day had been wildly unpredictable would’ve been an understatement. From locating Emil in the market after almost a year of separation, to confessing his silly misassumption about her pregnancy and, inadvertently also his feelings, to removing and examining her stomach and watching her amusement as it gurgled, to the dispute that arose from their futile attempt at talking things out, to almost fighting her in the woods, to chopping up firewood – all of it had been unexpected at each juncture, and all of it left him physically and mentally exhausted, though it was mostly the latter, given that he’d cycled through a couple of emotions throughout. He still wanted to build a log cabin, but it would have to wait.

He answered the call on the third ring, even though it was past midnight. He scribbled down her new location and her instructions for how he could get there. He hesitated, staring at his den den mushi, allowing several seconds of silence to pass between them, before he told her to go to bed and told her to call if she found herself dying or if anything came up. He hung up without saying good night or good bye, without giving her the chance to respond. Frankly, he was surprised she’d docked that close by, on the same island, hours away, given that he’d assumed she’d be setting sail for someplace that would take her several days of travelling.

Now he would have no excuse not to drop by.

On the other hand, he would have plenty of excuses to drop by.

**Lena**

Over the next few days, Law procured all the material he could find about building a cabin. He asked around among the crew for advice, and soon, Bepo and him drafted blueprints for the cabin they would build. They’d built temporary shelters in the past, and were both eager for a more challenging project. They discussed potential traps and worked one or two into their plans.

Law called Emil after five days. He’d debated calling her sooner, or visiting her, but always found some excuse to convince himself not to. He’d considered sending something by post over to her location but he doubted she’d welcome a stranger delivering a stranger package. He considered penning his thoughts in a letter addressed to her, but she would have to find someone to read it to her, and he doubted she’d find anyone in the vicinity given that she’d deliberately went off to some remote place.

It was close to midnight when he rang her this time. When she picked up, there would be a few seconds of pin drop silence, followed by an audible exhalation, before he spoke up.

“Hey, it’s me.” A pause for another beat or two. “What’s up. Need any embalming done?” Another pause, followed by the sound of pages being flipped. “So, I’m still thinking about building that log cabin. I do hope you haven’t started without me.”

* * *

**Lizard**

Emil was in the middle of cooking a lunch when the den den mushi Law had given her rang. She put away a knife, turned off the heat and sat on the couch by the coffee table before picking the call. "Hello." She recognised Law's voice but considering he had given her this tiny snail, she did not expect anyone else calling her. Maybe one of his crewmates, like Bepo or Shachi. For the same reason, she didn't introduce herself.

"I'm doing fine, thank you." A formality in a monotone. "I do not require any embalming - the only ones that come around are animals." She could deal with them if they got rowdy (they haven't so far) and no Marines or other law enforcement would come banging afterwards. "Apologies, I do not understand." Haven't started what? "Did you require me to build a log cabin?" That would explain why she had found herself in this log clearing. Or the protection goggles that had still been in the kitchen, though she had moved them out of the way, on top of a cupboard. If they were Law's, it was a good thing she hadn't binned them.

"If you needed me to build a log cabin with you, Law, my deepest apologies, I completely forgot about that." There was a slight pull of her eyebrows. The smallest sign of concern, but her voice did not betray it, as lifeless as ever. "I can still join you if you'd like me to, but if your plan was to join me, I have no plans to build it myself." Emil had a perfectly suitable ship with everything she might require. There was no need for a log cabin. You can't move your log cabin when troubles arrive and it certainly wouldn't hold against an attack either.

* * *

**Lena**

There was a moment of silence on Law’s end of the line, interrupted only by a page being flipped, a mug being set down. He kept Emil waiting several seconds, and the den den mushi on Emil’s side would’ve looked almost bored as it stared up at her.

Law replayed Emil’s words in his head. Emil was fine, as he had expected, and he wondered if he shouldn’t have bothered calling. It seemed she’d forgotten about their conversation in the woods, which wasn’t surprising. What was surprising were her apologies and formality, the former he’d never expect out of Emil’s mouth – not to him, at least. Part of him considered the fact that Emil in her void state seemed pliant enough to do whatever he asked of her – exploitable, yet he didn’t know if she’d remember what happened once her void state lapsed.

“You there?” he finally asked. “I’ve plans to build a small log cabin, and you told me you have experience building a few, though if I recall, you were pretty insistent against building one together, before you slipped into this…void state,” he explained, slumping back in his chair. “Wouldn’t want to force you into doing something you didn’t want to do, of course. Do as you like.” Law said nothing else, neglecting to inform Emil that he had plans to take Bepo over to her location the next day.

* * *

**Lizard**

Emil didn't mind the silence. She didn't have anything pressing to do. Yes, she had been in the middle of cooking but it could wait. She would have just sat there in silence, waiting for Law to continue or hang up if not for Bor. He fluttered through the ship to sit on the couch beside her, transformed into his middle form and bumped his head against her shoulder. He gave out a soft caw and repeated the motion, this time closer to her hand.

He wanted head scratches.

Emil - once again - didn't mind. She dipped her fingers into the soft plumage on Bor's head and massaged his scalp.

"I'm sorry but I can't remember ever building a log cabin." No wonder. She's rarely remembered _important_ things. To survive and to follow orders. Sure, she could try to remember details but it would make her recall what was it that had triggered her survival state - 'void' as some called it - in the first place. "I don't recall not wanting to build it either." Emil tilted her head ever so slightly. "Why would I not want to?" It made no sense - only things that hurt her one way or another would trigger her survival state. She would know to avoid log cabin building if it was a trigger. "Nevermind." She might recall the _actual_ reason if he described it. "If you wish to build a log cabin with me, Law, I do not mind. I can build it with you though I don't know if I'll be of any real help. As I said, I do not remember ever building one before. As long as it does not endanger me or those I care about, I'll do whatever you tell me to." Or anyone else, really. Emil was supposed to follow orders, after all.

-

It was noon when Emil woke up. At least that was her guess because it was warm and animals bustled with activity. After a workout, a shower and breakfast, Emil sat in her underwear on a deck, in the soft sun and 'meditated'. The ship's rocking on gentle waves was almost unnoticeable - if someone focused on it, they would be lulled to sleep in no time. Even the sea outside a wide bay opening seemed motionless. Emil sensed a swarm of fishes under and around Caramel. Big and small. In groups and lone ones. The whole shoreline here was a gentle beach with soft sand but Emil anchored Caramel far enough it wouldn't get stuck even during an ebb. Her attention spread out, between tall, leafy trees. Just like water was alive with fishes, the forest was full of critters. Birds of all sizes and shapes. Squirrels. Ferrets. Foxes. Badgers. Deer. She's even noticed a bear with cubs at outskirts of her haki range, over a half a mile away.

A new source came into her range. A big one. Like a flash of light showing at one's periphery. Emil tilted her head in its direction, bringing all her scattered focus to it.

Bor chirped, looking up at her from her knee - he must have noticed her movement.

"Law and Bepo are coming over." She hummed, scratching his head. She wasn't surprised - she had told Law where she'd docked. Emil turned her head in their direction. There were at least twenty meters of water between Caramel and the nearest dry land. Would Law get into the water? Sit on Bepo's back? Scream at her from the land?

She took a deep, breath and let her attention wander throughout the land and sea once more. No point in wondering, once he arrives, she'll know.

* * *

**Lena**

It was just for a second, but the den den mushi made a displeased face that mirrored Law’s, when Emil admitted she had no experience building a log cabin. Nevertheless, Law figured they could use Emil’s extra pair of hands, and one of his crew, who had built houses before, had already advised them on what to avoid. There was no abandoning the idea of building a log cabin, for sure, for Bepo’s hopes and expectations had already been elevated, and the last thing Law wanted was to disappoint him. He tucked away the useful information that Emil in her void state would do whatever anyone asked, as long as it didn’t endanger her.

“Yeah, fine,” Law said, a tad curtly. “See you, then.” He hung up without mentioning when he’d be there, and whether he still needed her help building the log cabin.

The next morning, after the rest of the crew had been given instructions and assigned tasks for the period of their absence, Bepo and Law set out at the crack of dawn. They expected to be back within a week – an ambitious time frame for building a cabin. They took with them another den den mushi to stay in contact with the crew. Bepo had changed out of his coveralls and into comfortable hiking wear – a simple tank top with their Jolly Roger emblazoned on the front and waterproof shorts with a large sun hat balanced on his crown. Law, for once, had donned shorts too, cargo shorts, and a matching short-sleeved t-shirt, with his usual spotted hat. Law carried a backpack while Bepo held the compass and a handmade map of the island.

The journey took them a little over four hours as they hiked their way through the lush forests and manoeuvred along the rugged coastline. An hour in, Bepo was drenched with sweat, and they paused by a small lake they passed. Bepo removed his clothes and plunged into the water to cool down. Law joined him, leaving his clothes on the bank as he soaked himself near the shallow end. They took another break by a stream, in which Bepo deftly fished. Bepo offered Law a raw trout, still flapping wildly in his paw, and Law said he was fine and gently pushed Bepo’s paw back.

By the time they arrived at the beach, their physical batteries were in need of recharging and their empty stomachs in need of sustenance. Glimpsing a thumb-sized vessel in the distance, they trudged towards it and stopped a few steps away from the shoreline. Law recognised the Caramel, a short but fatal swim away. He had no idea if Emil was on-board or if she’d swam to the shore and was wandering around, doing whatever Emil liked doing, probably not prancing around naked this time, since she was in her void state. Bepo flopped down onto the beach, scattering sand in all directions. He removed his hat and fanned himself. Law sat cross-legged beside him. He fished out his binoculars and peered through the lens while moving it until he spotted the Caramel. He adjusted the focus and searched for any signs of life on-board the ship. Law thought he glimpsed a flash of movement, but before he could focus on it, Bepo asked if he could have a look, and Law passed the binoculars to him.

“It’s Emil!” Bepo cried, lowering the binoculars. Law decided to take Bepo’s word for it. He pulled out the den den mushi, about to call Emil, when Bepo put a paw on his hand and said, “It’s a short swim. I’ll go get her.”

Minutes later, Bepo was gliding through the water, headed for the Caramel’s stern. He grabbed onto the ladder and hauled himself up, water splashing from his wet fur as he climbed on-board. Bepo stood on the deck, in the nude, his eyes roaming around in search of Emil. When he spotted her, he hurried towards her, eagerness in his steps, and wrapped his arms around her. Still drenched and dripping wet, Bepo gave Emil a big bear hug. He let go only after a few seconds.

“Emil?” Bepo looked Emil up and down, his eyes gleaming with affection and excitement. “It’s been so many years! Months! But it felt like years.” Bepo put a paw on Emil’s head. “Where have you been all this time? I asked Law, but he always said he didn't know or straight out ignored my questions."

* * *

**Lizard**

Emil didn't move from her spot when Law and Bepo arrived at the beach. She didn't move when Law pulled out what seemed like binoculars and spied in her direction. She said quiet 'thank you' to Bor when he fluttered up to the top of her head and chirped a few times, informing her of their arrival. She considered sending Bor over to the beach to bring both Law and Bepo over but opted against it when Bepo ran into the water.

She got up from her cross-legged position only once Bepo climbed Caramel. Unlike Law, whose status in Emil's head was that of 'a sorta maybe friend?', Bepo was a clear 'cute friend'. "Hello, Bepo." Her voice was still monotone and lifeless but there was the faintest smile on her face. Swallowed in his big, wet hug, Emil didn't mind and all and even hugged him back - pressing her cheek against his soaked fur and reaching out both arms in a futile attempt to wrap them around his torso. It was more than clear Bepo wanted a hug and Emil saw no reason to not comply - it was warm, her skin and underwear would dry off in no time.

Where? She couldn't recall details of anything that had happened before she met Law in the log clearing. Island. Water. Island. People. Places. Food. "I travelled around." Upon pulling away, she reached up and ruffled Bepo's cheek. "I don't think Law knew where I was." Not even Jaya had a way of tracking Emil's movements - Emil doubted she had given Law any.

Bor landed on Bepo's shoulder and snuggled against his neck, chirping happily. He flew off, morphed into his middle, sparrow-crow form and landed on a bench. "Hello, Heho." He mimicked Emil, flapping his wings. "Hello. Hi."

Emil pulled away from Bepo and stepped inside Caramel. "Have you decided how to get Law over water?" She's had a couple of ideas on how to do it - from sending Bor over to deploying this little rowboat in Caramel's back compartment - but if Bepo and Law had already planned something, who was she to stop them? Emil took a jug with lemonade out of the fridge and poured Bepo a glass. At Bor's quick caw, she opened the fridge again and threw a chicken wing at him.

Bor caught it and got back outside to eat it on the deck.

"How have you been, Bepo? Are you here to build a log cabin after all?" Carrying her own glass and the jug, Emil followed Bor outside. "There are towels in the guest bathroom if you want to dry off."

* * *

**Lena**

Bepo thought nothing of Emil’s monotonous and lifeless voice; Law sometimes spoke to him in such a manner – though Bepo did worry, since Emil’s voice was usually the opposite, whereas Law’s rarely was. Still, Emil’s smile and hug temporarily set his mind at ease and he nuzzled his cheek against hers. He even squeezed her a little harder in his excitement. A grin spread on his face when she ruffled his cheek. He nodded at her answer that she’d been travelling, easily satisfied with it.

Bepo gave a small start when Bor landed on his shoulder, though he soon relaxed and patted Bor’s head. Watching Bor’s transformation and mimicry of Emil, Bepo laughed. “She’s a smart one,” Bepo said, not knowing Bor was a he. Bepo waved his hands, pretending to flap his wings. “Hello, heho,” Bepo repeated. “Hello, hi.” He reached out and caressed Bor’s head.

Emil’s question about whether Bepo had decided how to get Law over water caused Bepo’s face to scrunch up in confusion. Bepo scratched the back of his head. It appeared he had not given it any thought at all. “How?” Bepo put a hand on his hip and frowned in thought. “Maybe I’ll build a little boat to row him over?” He gazed up at the ceiling as he mentally calculated the distance from the shore. “Hm, I think he can teleport over, if he wanted to. He’s probably just lazy right now.” Bepo smiled, his eyes lighting up at the pitcher of refreshing lemonade.

“Oh, thanks!” Bepo happily took the glass of lemonade Emil poured him. His eyes followed the trajectory of the chicken wing as it soared through the air until Bor snatched it with his beak. A brief look of envy flashed in his eyes, and he resisted the urge to ask Emil for a chicken wing too. That would be rude and Bepo didn’t want to inconvenience Emil or steal Bor’s food. He made the most of what he had – the glass of lemonade, which he clutched in both paws, lest he drops it by accident. Bepo downed the lemonade in one gulp and let out a noise of utter satisfaction. He followed Emil outside, carrying his empty glass.

“Yeah, Law wanted to build one, so I said I’d help,” Bepo said, when Emil asked if he was there to build a log cabin. “He couldn’t stop talking about it for days so I knew it was a lost cause to convince him against the idea.” Bepo flopped down to sit on the deck, and waved a dismissive hand. “Thanks, but that’s fine. I’ll dry quickly enough.” Bepo held out his glass, requesting a refill of lemonade. “And you, Emil? How have you been?” Bepo thought Emil looked sad. Maybe it was just him? He was too used to observing Law, looking out for Law’s occasional melancholic expression that suggested Law needed him around, that Bepo had become more attuned to sadness.

Law was still seated cross-legged on the beach. Bepo and Emil sure were taking their time. With an impatience furrow in his brow, binoculars glued to his face, he spied on them conversing on the deck – and his eyes narrowed in disbelief when he glimpsed the pitcher of lemonade. Were they having a picnic next? He couldn’t shake the thought that they’d forgotten him.

Holding the binoculars to his eyes, the lens focused on Emil and Bepo, Law whipped out his den den mushi and rang Emil’s. He didn’t wait for Emil to say hello before he said, “Are you having a picnic?” The den den mushi bearing his features sighed. “Are you both coming over or what? We haven’t got all day,” Law said. Recalling that she would follow instructions, he added, “Emil, take Bepo and come over.” Then it struck him that Bepo hadn’t eaten much to replenish the energy exerted. “And bring some food.”

Bepo, sitting at the side and listening in, pushed to his feet. “Hey, Law told me he flew on Bor once.” Bepo clapped his paws together, his eyes gleaming. “Can we try it? Flying, I mean, if – if Bor can, ah, can take my w-w-weight.” Bepo smiled sheepishly and rubbed at his ear.

* * *

**Lizard**

"I've been doing fine," Emil replied, refilling Bepo's glass - her voice was neither happy nor sad, it was emotionless. If there was any emotion in her, it was content and calmness - she was safe and comfortable. "Nothing tried to attack me so far so that's good." She put the pitcher back on the table, took a sip from her own glass and sat down when the den den mushi rang. Without any sigh or roll of her eyes, Emil stood back up and walked inside Caramel to pick the call. While Law talked, she returned to Bor and Bepo on the deck, balancing the den den mushi on her shoulder.

She was about to step off the ship and swim to the shore when Law added the requirement of the food. "I'm afraid I don't really have any food at the ready, Law." Bor nuzzled against Emil's side and she complied, scratching his head, careful of his feathers - in his middle form he reached to her armpit. "I have a jar of cookies and some fresh fruit but if you'd like anything other than that for this picnic, I'll need time." Without waiting for Law's response, Emil faced Bepo. "Trebor should be able to lift you in his full form but he can't exactly carry you over - he's not allowed to sit on Caramel in his full form as he tips the ship over." She patted Bor's head. "You'll fly Bepo around when you get to the land, yes?"

_Bor flapped his wings, called out once and twice before announcing 'Yes! Hor and Heho fly." He loved to fly with Emil but taking new people on a flight was always amusing - their reactions were funny. Unless they pulled his feathers. He disliked it a lot when people pulled at his beautiful feathers. It also hurt. He would have to make sure Emil told Bepo about this because Bor didn't want to be angry at Bepo. Bepo was nice. Bor liked Bepo._

"Law? What do you want to eat?" Emil walked over to the back of Caramel and unlocked two pneumatic hinges holding a back, buoyant platform in an up position - it lowered itself softly on the water. Holding the den den mushi in place, Emil hopped down and opened the back lock. "Bepo! Can you come over, help me bring this boat out?" Hunched over, she walked inside the lock and grabbed the further end of the small, two-person rowboat. "I have some chicken wings but it would take time to cook them. At the very least half an hour but longer if you want them to taste nice. The fastest would be a big heap of scrambled eggs with sausages and toasts."

With Bepo's help, they got the boat on the water. Emil intended to get the food and maybe a picnic blanket in it over to the beach. It would work well as a way of getting Law to Caramel too. It certainly would _not_ manage to carry Bepo.

_Bor cawed at Emil's mention of chicken wings. Now, he wanted another one. Chicken wings were nice. Nicer than Bepo. He was going to try to snatch another one when Emil opens the cold box again._

* * *

**Lena**

Anticipation sparkled in Bepo’s eyes at the prospect of flying – being flown. He beamed with delight and gave Bor a thumbs-up. “Thanks, Bor! Yes, we’ll fly together.” Extending his arms to the sides, Bepo attempted to mimic Bor’s cawing. It was an attempt that filled him with regret, for he sounded monstrous. Beneath his fur, Bepo’s cheeks coloured. He gulped down the rest of his lemonade and sighed in contentment. “Oh, definitely, no tipping the ship over.” Bepo chuckled. “Remind me not to wander too close to the edges either.”

Not a second was wasted as Bepo set down his glass and bounded over to the back of the Caramel when Emil called for his assistance. He eventually slowed his pace so he wouldn’t damage the deck. That would make Emil sad. Bepo grabbed the other end of the small rowboat and helped Emil lower it onto the water. Staring at it, he couldn’t suppress his curiosity that made him wonder what fraction of his weight the boat could take before it capsized. A paw? A foot? A full leg? Maybe Law could split his body into fragments and they could test it out. Bepo temporarily shelved those thoughts, for all the talk of food was making him ravenous.

On the shore, Law hadn’t budged an inch. The binoculars remained fixed to his face, trained on Emil and Bepo. Law had listened in to Emil and Bepo’s conversation, with patience, in silence. A few times he had opened his mouth to respond, but either Bepo, Bor, or Emil had spoken up first and Law had to wait his turn. Once they were quiet, Law cleared his throat – to signal that he would begin to speak, so would they please not interrupt.

“No, wait, listen. I don’t need a picnic,” Law said. “I was asking, with a scintilla of sarcasm, if you were going to have a picnic next. But fruit and cookies are fine. Anything will be fine. And actually, forget what I said – there’s no hurry. If it takes over half an hour to cook the chicken wings, and you want chicken wings, then go ahead. Ask Bepo to tell you what he wants. I’m good. I’ll see you later. Call me when you come over.” Law hung up, without waiting for a response. Bepo would not find this unusual. Since they would likely take a while to prepare the food, Law stood up and started to explore around.

Back on the Caramel, Bepo turned to Emil with a troubled look on his face. Law told him to tell Emil what he wanted to eat? But Bepo couldn’t decide. How would he choose between cookies, fruit, chicken wings, scrambled eggs, sausages, and toasts? Could he say ‘yes’ and ‘everything’? No, that was beyond rude. Bepo laughed nervously and scratched the side of his head. Having to make trivial decisions was the bane of his life. Decisions concerning crucial matters with dire consequences he could handle but things like deciding between cheesecake and ice cream for dessert? The yellow shirt or the orange one? Strawberry- or peach-scented soap? He would agonise over his decision.

“What do _you_ want to eat, Emil?” Bepo threw the question back. When Emil couldn’t decide either, Bepo recommended they make _everything_ she had listed earlier, because why not? The more the merrier and that applied to food too. Bepo happily assisted Emil in the kitchen, with whatever she told him to do. Sausages sizzling in the frying pan, Bepo asked, "Emil, where did you learn to cook? I mean, when? Did someone teach you?"

Thereafter, he helped her clean up, and helped her pack the food into a picnic basket to be transported over to the shore. Unlike Bor, Bepo would never attempt to steal food from Emil. He would, obviously, not sneak his paw into the picnic basket and help himself to the chicken wings or sausages. That didn’t mean the aroma didn’t tempt him, however, but Bepo recalled what Law said about delayed gratification and how to apply the technique of distraction. Bepo distracted himself by watching Bor, though he failed to suppress the look of hunger in his eyes. He hadn't noticed that he had started drooling earlier either.

* * *

**Lizard**

Oh, Emil had understood Law's sarcasm. She saw no point in using it herself but it was within her capabilities to recognise and understand it. Either way, she was sincere about the picnic. It was clear Law had no intention of arriving at her ship anytime soon, so if they were to eat on the beach, not at a table it only made sense to bring some protective layer so the sand didn't get into food. Therefore a blanket. Therefore a picnic. Law might have said he didn't _need_ a picnic but a picnic he was going to get. Full service with a blanket, wicker basket and wine.

When Law left the beach, Emil assumed it was to check the area for a nice spot for his log cabin. On one side she probably should keep track of his whereabouts in case he was attacked but on the other side, his presence was strong enough to stay in Emil's periphery like a loud fly buzzing around in the same room. That and he was strong enough to cush his attackers.

Emil didn't have a preference for what to eat. She wasn't even hungry as she had eaten not long before they arrived. Still, she had plenty of food, they were her dear guests and she didn't mind cooking scrambled eggs _and_ chicken wings.

While the said chicken wings - minus one, she had given overjoyed Bor - marinated in a bowl of buttermilk and spices, Emil cut sweet potatoes into wedges. "I think I've always enjoyed cooking." An old and distant memory of her baking gingerbread cookies back as a child was one of the very few things she could recall somewhat fully instead of just disconnected images. 'Somewhat fully' as any memory that's nearly two decades old was bound to be fuzzy. "My mom taught me how to bake when I was little and then Jaya taught me to cook when I was older." There was a slight smile on Emil's face - maybe she should set sails and go visit Jaya and Monie? "Jaya's a tavern owner in my hometown but she cooks in there too."

They packed everything into the boat. Two big, thick blankets to sit on. Two fluffy towels in case someone got thrown into the water. Six big plates and a handful of cutlery. A big box of a variety of cookies Emil's already had - oatmeal, chocolate chip, peanut butter, sugar, cranberry. Some fresh apples, bananas, tangerines and kiwi but also a smaller box with all of those fruits and some more in a fruit salad. There was a box of sausages Bepo had dutifully fried. A bowl of scrambled eggs. Half of a loaf worth of toasts. There were crispy fried chicken wings and barbeque sauce. A big portion of spicy roasted sweet potato wedges. A big pitcher of lemonade. An unopened bottle of wine and three wine glasses. Emil doubted Bepo would want to drink wine but he could be fancy and drink his lemonade from a fancy glass.

Emil gave Bepo the den den mushi from Law and instructed him to call Law. They made their way to the shore and all the way to the line between sand and grass. While Emil spread out the blankets to sit on them and wait for Law, Bor landed on top of Bepo's head.

_"Bepo!" he called out but all that came out of his beak was a chirp - he couldn't imitate sounds in his tiny form. He jumped off Bepo's head and landed on the sand in his bigger but still not true form. "Bepo!" he called out again - it sounded like 'Heho' this time. He could never get those sounds right but it didn't matter, he did his best. "Fly!" He flapped his wings but didn't jump into the air. Instead, he walked over to Emil who sat on the checkered blanket. "Ehil!" He nudged her shoulder with his beak. " Hey! Hi! I love you." He liked those sounds, they always made Emil happy. Even if just a tiny bit when she was like that. "Hor and Heho fly! Tell Heho!"_

Emil reached up and dipped her fingers into Bor's soft plumage on his head - the tiniest of smiles curling her lips. She was glad to have this silly bird as her friend. "Don't pull on his feathers, Bepo. He really dislikes that. He's thrown people off his back for that." She shifted her hand and now scratched Bor under the beak. "If you start sliding down, just tell him and he will fly over the water, back toward the land. If you _do_ fall off, stay on the surface of the water and don't swim around, he will pick you up in his claws."

_Bor cawed and spread out his wings, growing up to his true, biggest form. His feathers grew longer and darker - once brown and dull they were now black and shiny. He stood up tall with his wings out and head high, waiting for Bepo's reaction but eventually sat down in the sand, letting him climb onto his back. "Fly!"_

* * *

**Lena**

“I’m sure your cooking is fantastic,” Bepo said, ever the encourager. “I can’t wait to try it.” The fur on his chin was already damp with drool. Thank goodness Emil was blind. With the boat loaded with picnic food and necessities, Bepo stood on the deck of the Caramel, eyeing their combined efforts in the kitchen with wonder and hunger. Such a delectable spread, featuring colours of the rainbow, the tantalising aromas making his stomach howl in demand. Emil was a godsend; Law would never cook him such a feast. In that brief moment, Bepo envied Bor. Since Bepo did not want to risk tipping the boat – and all that glorious food – over into the water, he bid Emil adieu, dived off, and swam to the shore.

Bepo emerged soaking wet, grinning, refreshed from the short swim. He clomped over the sandy beach and shook himself off, throwing his head back, shaking it side to side; he wriggled his arms and legs, bounced his shoulders, alternating between left and right. He helped Emil carry a picnic basket up the shore. While she laid out the blanket, Bepo called Law on the den den mushi and told him they had arrived. The conversation was over in seconds, with Law acknowledging Bepo’s words with an ‘okay’.

Not wanting to soak the blanket, Bepo stood aside to dry off in the sun. He smiled when Emil’s little intelligent friend tried to pronounce his name and convey that they would fly. Bepo didn’t mimic Bor this time, nor did he mirror Bor by flapping his arms. It was endearing the way Bor called Emil and said he loved her. What a sweet bird; now Bepo was a tad jealous of Emil. Bepo wondered if Emil had trained Bor, how they’d met, how long they’d been together. He decided he would ask later, for he couldn’t concentrate on anything else but – “Fly, yes!” Bepo exclaimed. “Can we?” Bepo followed Emil’s example and carefully petted Bor on the back of his head and under his beak, hoping to coax Bor into lifting him airborne. “Don’t pull on his feathers, got it.” He flinched just imagining someone pulling on Bor’s plumage. “I would never. That sounds painful.” Bepo gently rubbed the sides of Bor’s head in sympathy.

The thought of falling had never occurred to Bepo until Emil brought it up, and Bepo gave a nervous chuckle. Now that he thought about it, he didn’t really have anything to hold onto. If he fell, Emil and Law might fight and break up. Bepo pushed his worries away. There was nothing to fear! He trusted Bor and Emil wholeheartedly, though he wondered what happened to those who had pulled on Bor’s feathers and gotten thrown off. But of course, that would never happen to him. “Yeah, okay,” Bepo said chirpily. “No problem, I won’t fall.” Bepo gaped as Bor transformed into his biggest form, his mouth voicing a silent ‘oooh’. It looked like Bor was posing for him, so Bepo clapped enthusiastically. “Yes, fly!” He approached Bor and stroked Bor’s soft and shiny plumage with appreciation – Bor’s feathers were beautiful – before climbing onto Bor’s back. Bepo gave Emil two thumbs up, then remembered she couldn’t see them. “Bye, Emil. Sure you don’t want to come along?”

\---

A mile or two away, Law was making his way back, when he glimpsed something in the air. He squinted, then peered through the binoculars and his mouth dropped open. Bepo, his arms extended to his sides, grinning (not unlike a thrills enthusiast riding a rollercoaster), was flying on Bor. Law stared, frozen in his spot, brows furrowed, as Bor and Bepo glided smoothly through the skies, swooping down, then soaring high again. His heart skipped a beat when Bepo almost fell off. But Bor swiftly changed course, and Bepo was righted on his back.

Law continued onwards, slowing in his pace when he spotted Emil from afar. She was seated on what looked like a mat, surrounded by what looked like the picnic he did not ask for. The closer he got, he could see that he was wrong. It was not a picnic. It was a grand banquet, a luxurious buffet. If Emil greeted him with a ‘Welcome back, Law’, speechless and stupefied, he did not appear to register her words. They even brought towels, plates and cutlery, wine and wine glasses? He paused beside the picnic blanket, surveying the different varieties of cookies and fruits, sausages and scrambled eggs, toasts and chicken wings, potato wedges.

“We haven’t even cut down the first tree, let alone finish building the cabin,” Law said, uncomprehending. A feast of such proportions would be understandable if they were celebrating the completion of the log cabin. “Who’s going to eat all this food?” he asked, genuinely curious. He glanced around their vicinity, half expecting other tea party guests to materialise and join them. “Are we expecting company?” Bepo could likely polish off half of everything, but still, it looked like enough food to last an entire day or day and a half. Law sat down across from Emil, wondering if this was Bepo’s fault. Bepo tended to overbake when he couldn’t decide which recipe he wanted to use.

“So, I found our site, but we may face problems with the wildlife.” Law reached directly for an oatmeal cookie, when Bor and Bepo arrived back, Bepo grinning with exhilaration. Bepo bounded towards them, the impact of his feet spraying sand with each step. Since they were apparently celebrating something, Law popped the cork on the wine bottle and poured three glasses of wine, never mind that Bepo usually did not drink, for good reasons.

Having dried off during the flight, Bepo plopped down eagerly on the edge of the mat, careful not to knock over anything. Eyes wide and gleaming, Bepo leaned forward, looking over the dizzying array of choices. Which would he try first? The decision was almost overwhelming. Then he straightened up, remembering Bor. Bepo selected the meatiest chicken wing and offered it to Bor. Bepo had thanked Bor many times with words, but he didn’t know if Bor understood, but the chicken wing was bound to get his appreciation across.

“Can he eat fried chicken?” Bepo asked Emil first, just in case. “What else can I feed him?” Bepo made sure Bor had enough to eat, then he proceeded to sample a bit of everything. Bepo enthused over each item he tried: _Good! Better! Even better! Oh, delicious. I’ll die if I don’t get to eat this again._ Law paid Bepo no mind. Bepo raised his wine glass, feeling absolutely classy and important, pinching the stem between his thumb and finger. “To –” Bepo’s smile faded. He hadn’t thought that far. He just wanted to make a toast. “To Bor!” Bepo toasted Emil since Law didn’t raise his glass. Bepo downed his drink in one gulp, and his face puckered as he clapped a hand over his mouth. “That’s not lemonade.”

“I poured you wine,” Law explained, his expression unchanged.

Bepo stuck out his tongue, then filled his glass with lemonade. He swirled his glass, feeling classy again. “Emil,” Bepo began, “why did you sail all the way out here? There’s nothing and nobody around.” Bepo’s brows knitted with concern. He leaned towards Emil and whispered, “Are you running from something?” But that didn’t sound like Emil. She would have stayed and fought. “Oh, did you want to be left alone?” Bepo pulled a sheepish grimace, wondering if they’d ruined Emil’s plans. “Did you come out here on your own because you wanted ‘quiet time’?” To Bepo’s understanding, Law sometimes needed ‘quiet time’ to recharge his batteries and whatever else. Bepo understood that his ‘quiet time’ was to be respected. "Sorry, we can leave after the picnic, if you did come for that..."

* * *

**Lizard**

Emil raised her thumb back at Bepo, aware of his movement. She waved as Bor carried him into the sky, then shifted to sit cross-legged and closed her eyes. She let her attention thin out and spread again, taking in her surroundings. She had lost track of Law a while back, but now, that he was on his way back, she could sense his presence again. He was like a lighthouse in a distance - growing bigger and stronger - though it was him coming toward her, not the other way around.

She waited.

 _Bor cawed out loud and adjusted his angle, making sure Bor wouldn't slip off him. It was fun. It was hard but fun. Emil had done it with him plenty of times - she would go motionless and it was Bor's job to make sure she stayed on his back. Bepo's calls were great. The exclamations. The calls. The yells. They were different than Emil's but Bor liked the sound of them anyway. Bor flew up high and soared - Emil on the beach only a little speck - before he folded his wings and tipped head down. He remembered Bepo was_ not _Emil and eased the dive early instead, gently swooping to fly just above waves. He turned and started climbing into the sky again, cawing back at Bepo's shouts._

Emil spoke her greetings when Law stepped from between the tree line but she didn't move - her legs still crossed, her back still straight, her hands still on her knees and her eyes closed. Some might say she was meditating and they wouldn't be that far from the truth. Up and down, up and down, her chest moved as she breathed slowly in and out. The smell of food filled her nostrils but she could still pick up the scent of pine trees, wet sand and salty sea. If only her nose could _always_ be subjected to such pleasant smells.

"You've seen Bor's full form before, haven't you, Law?" That and a nod toward the enormous bird - flying up in the sky with a bear mink on the back - was her whole answer to Law's disbelief at the amount of food. She didn't remember and didn't bother to try to recall the time Law flew on Bor but Bepo had told her back on Caramel that Law had. Emil had no reason to accuse Bepo of lies, in fact, she was inclined to disbelieve anyone claiming Bepo lied. The only explanation was that Law - in his apparent shock at the amount of prepared food - did _not_ realise that it was not nearly as impressive when compared to Bor's full size. He probably could eat all of this food in one sitting and demand more.

For a brief second, she wondered if other zoan users experienced appetite changes depending on the size of their current form. She threw this question away, considering it irrelevant. Bor did and Eml didn't care about the rest of zoan users.

Emil turned her head to face Law and opened her eyes. "Problems with wildlife?" Did he mean they could attack? Scavenge supplies? Trash the house? Each problem required a different solution. While hunting down an aggressive animal was within the realm of possibilities, Emil saw no point in building a log cabin in the middle of nature if they were to destroy the said nature in the process.

Law didn't have a chance to answer though - Bor landed on the beach in front of them and cawed, stretching his wings before letting Bepo back down onto the sand.

_Bor jumped back into the air, shrinking into his middle form in flight. He landed beside the blanket, not on it, and only then stepped onto it to sit beside Emil. "Ehil! I love you!" He croaked, nudging his beak against Emil's shoulder, demanding head scratches. Blinking, he watched her hand but also the other human - Law - as he opened a dark bottle and poured the liquid into the confusing containers... Glasses. Glass. Glass was confusing. It was there but not at the same time. He lidded his eyes and leant into Emil's hand. Head scratches weren't confusing. Head scratches were nice. "Fly with Heho. It was fun."_

_Chicken!_

_Bor jumped to Bepo and grabbed the chicken wing out of his hand. He paused, looking around. He didn't like eating from the sand. The grass was far from the rest of the food and far from Emil. Emil disliked when he ate directly from the blankets._

"Yes, Bepo, he can eat chicken." She took out a big plate and placed it in front of Bor. He flapped his wings and dropped the chicken wing onto the plate before nipping strands of meat off. "Don't worry, you can offer him anything - he's smart enough not to eat things he shouldn't." Emil took her glass of wine from Law with a soft thank you. She took a sip of it before placing the glass on the blanket. She reached to the nearest food container that happened to be a bowl of a fruit salad, transferred some in a smaller bowl and started eating, watching Bepo.

Emil couldn't care less about the flavour values of her food. As long as it was nutritious and healthy, she would be content with eating it in any form, even as a uniform, tasteless mush. Bepo was a friend though and if eating all her food made him this happy, Emil was glad she had put effort into making sure everything was tasty.

She rose her glass and clicked with Bepo at his toast. She a tip, only the second that day and her tiny smile grew just a smidge wider. Bepo was adorable. No wonder he had managed to gain the status of Emil's friend. Emil didn't recall what he's done before, but her active self had always gravitated toward adorableness and fluffiness.

Speaking about. She turned her head to make it clear to Law her attention fell on him. She opened her mouth to say something but Bepo shifted closer to her, worried they bothered her, pulling her attention back.

"No, Bepo, I'm not running from anything." She cupped his left cheek, her fingers dipping into his soft, already dry fur. She hadn't identified any clear threat so she wasn't running from it. "There were just too many people around." Any of them could decide to attack her at any point - it was easier to track people's movements if there were fewer of them to track. Emil placed her bowl on the blanket and taped her temple, her other hand still on Bepo's cheek, her thumb stroking a little circle. "I can sense the presence of people around me all the time. Their movements. It's fine in smaller towns but in a big town like the one I left, it gets-" Emil paused, a tiny frown knitted her eyebrows closer as she tried to find the right word. 'Overwhelming' was the first that came to her mind but it wasn't right. "Taxing. Yes, taxing." Emil leant in and planted a soft kiss on Bepo's nose. "Don't worry, Bepo. You're welcome here. Your whole crew could come over and it would be fine."

_Bor cawed. With his wings outstretched, he walked over to Emil, leant down to rub his head against her shoulder and cawed again. "Love you too!" He had seen the head touch she gave Bepo; he wanted a head touch too. A 'kiss', she called it. Silly human, it was a 'head touch'! They were nice. As nice as head scratches. He wanted one too._

"Silly bird." Emil hummed and leant in, pressing a kiss on Bor's forehead, just above his beak. Leaning back, she watched him walk over to a basket with food. He pulled out a piece of toast and dropped it on her lap. He grabbed another toast and dropped it onto his own plate, next to the almost eaten chicken wing.

"Eat!" he cawed at her, digging into his toast himself.

"Silly bird," Emil repeated with a faint but visible smile on her lips. Ripping a piece of her toast off, she turned to Law. "Do you want a kiss on the nose as well, Law?" she joked, popping the piece into her mouth. Her eyebrows knitted. Joke? Why would she joke? She never joked. At least not until asked to. Oh well, she shook her head ever so slightly before directing her eyes at Law again.

"You've said you found a place for the cabin but we might face problems with wildlife." Emil's attention drifted a bit up, toward Law's hat. Ah, yes, she had wanted to ask about it when Bepo interrupted. "What did you mean exactly? What kind of wildlife?" She dropped the remaining piece of her toast into her fruit salad bowl and dusted her hands of any crumbs. "Wolves? Boars? A moose? Raccoons? We'll have to deal with them differently, depending on what kind of an animal it is." It could be a wasp hive for all she knew. She tilted her head. "What's the place anyway? Are there trees we'll have to chop down? Big or small? Well, we'll need logs anyway. I have only two axes but I can bring trees down by hand, you've seen it. I have only one shovel though. Enough hammers to equip an army but not nearly enough nails. They probably would be too short anyway. So-" Emil picked up her wine and took a sip but then placed the glass on her opposite side, so it didn't stand between her and Law. "I suppose once we finish eating, we could grab tools I already have and go over there. Maybe deal with animals, depending on what they are, bring down a few trees and - tomorrow morning - Trebor can fly you and me back to the town to grab other tools." Emil looked at Bepo. "I'm sorry dear, but you'll have to stay behind. Trebor's strong but even he would start having problems with you, us and then supplies."

"Oh, one more thing, Law." Emil shifted to her knees and leant over to Law, far enough she had to support her weight on one hand. She reached out, intending to grab Law's hat and put in on top of her own head. Why? She wasn't sure. She just apparently liked fluffy things. And hats. And Law's hat was fluffy. "I like your hat." He didn't resist when she grabbed the hat visor. He didn't stop her when she pulled it up and off his head. It made her smile. She wasn't sure why but it didn't bother her enough to ponder it. "Thanks." Sitting back, she put the hat on... It was too big on her and it slid down, stopping only on her ears and nose.

Emil chuckled and grinned. "How do I look, Bepo?"

* * *

 **The thread got dropped, here's a summary of what happened next** :

Bepo and Law stayed onboard Caramel - sleeping in the guest room - while they worked on the log cabin, erecting it in the place Law had found. Emil was in her void state the whole time. Over time, she smiled more and near the end, it seemed she was out already but n - she still barely remembered who Bepo and Law were, other than 'someone she liked'. It was two days after they finished the cabin that Emil finally came back.

Law had suspected Emil would be angry at him and throw another fit but it didn't come. Even when back, she could barely remember what had lead to it. Everything was hazy. She knew she was with Law when it happened and it was _because_ of Law but couldn't recall any details. She wasn't bothered. It would come back over the next few days. It always did.

With the cabin finished and the rest of the crew neglected long enough, Law and Bepo parted to Tang but not without Bepo making sure Emil promised she would visit them soon. 

Emil eventually recalled what had happened before she fell into the void state. She wasn't angry. She was sad. She guessed Law had no intention to become friends with her. Perhaps, she was only an interesting phenomenon to him? She wasn't sure. She let it be and decided that letting her hopes up would be a bad move.

-

As the four worked on building the log cabin, they faced some opposition from the wildlife who saw them as intruders and fought to ward them off. Ultimately, with Bepo's help in mediating, peaceful relations could be established once they explained they had no intention to live there or start a little tribe. Both sides left the other alone. 

Law subtly kept an eye on Emil throughout, though he refrained from asking provocative questions, in the event he inadvertently extended her void state-if at all possible. Better to err on the side of caution, or they'd have to build another log cabin and extend their vacation. Still, he may have slipped up once or twice. Nonetheless, their time together was surprisingly amicable. To Bepo, they were four good friends embarking on a project together. Law didn't think too much about all of it, though he enjoyed the process and learning a thing or two from Emil. It was a relief for Law and Bepo when Emil began to smile more as they neared the completion of the cabin. Law expected she'd return to herself soon, and prepared for a change of the pleasant weather they had been having.

The cabin was hardly impressive or imposing, but because sweat had been sweated over it, and because each night they went to bed with the good kind of ache in their muscles, there was an undeniable sense of accomplishment. They painted the cabin black and yellow and wrote DEATH over the entrance. Then they painted their Jolly Rogers on the opposite sides.

Law had expected Emil would be angry once out of her void state, but she seemed to have forgotten their squabble- he doubted she would pretend and decided it was a good thing. He said nothing either about their earlier dispute, because, again, although building the cabin was enjoyable, it was time to get a move on, and one cabin was enough. Bepo noticed Emil brightening and returning to her usual self and hugged her with warmth and love when she was 'back'. Bepo understood she had needed some time to recalibrate her moods or spirit. Bepo had also made a map of the island and had marked the location of their cabin. He told Emil they would return one day, and how nice it would be if the cabin was still standing, and that they should totally get together and build another cabin someday! And that would Bor please give him another ride so he could again pretend he was a bird soaring through the air? 

Frankly, Law still didn't know what it was he said or did that triggered Emil's void state. He doubted he would ever figure out, but maybe when there were the Hearts' and Post Mortem Pirates' Jolly Rogers on cabins scattered throughout the world, he would finally learn what it was.   
  


Law never expected his relations with Emil to be patched after all their adventures and misadventures, but then things always had a funny way of working out.


	2. Law | Emil - Early Halloween

**Lizard**

Emil felt spooky and was running around, giving away Halloween-ish gifts. The whole crew got cookies shaped like ghosts, bats, and cats but Law got a set of whiskey glasses - the outside was shaped like normal cylinders but inside was shaped like a human skull.

* * *

**Lena**

A flurry of excitement awaited Law in the mess hall that rang with a cacophony of voices, the culprits gathered around a long table, heads bent low, hands criss-crossing each other’s and dipping into several glass jars. The aroma of cookies wafted over to where Law paused in the doorway, watching the crew as they feasted on the cookie buffet, their heads bobbing with appreciation, mouths busy chewing and chattering, spraying crumbs here and there, now and then cutting each other off to groan in blissful satisfaction, their eyelids fluttering like the wings of a hummingbird. Even Jean Bart closed his eyes for seconds to savour the delectable richness of the cookies. They wolfed down cookies like ravenous ghouls feeding on fresh corpses. Gauging from their appetite, Law surmised that Emil had played cookie Santa – except she was a slim, if muscly, Santa, doling out cookies rather than consuming them. Though, had Law stumbled upon a jar of Emil’s cookies whilst wandering through the woods, he was confident he could recognise the scent of Emil’s baking, just as his keen sense of smell could detect a whiff of bread hidden in the same room.

The crew did not notice Law’s approach, for they were engrossed in sampling every flavour and shape of cookie (as though the shape changed its taste), then marvelling over the variety of shapes and flavours, comparing cookies like children comparing gifts received at Christmas. Finally, they exchanged opinions about the flavours and shapes in the professional tones of food connoisseurs, then they each voted for their favourite, and bickered over which was the tastiest cookie. Law stood at the head of the table, his presence disregarded. He eyed the cookies that had possessed his men – the baked treats looked decorated for Halloween, which was not for another month. He ought to know when it was Halloween; the children would be sure to remind him. Why was Emil celebrating Halloween early? Did she…not intend to live another month? Granted, Emil was always suicidal, to an extent, but if she intended to kill herself, would she go on a baking spree? Was it a parting gift?

Law questioned the crew on Emil’s whereabouts, but he might as well have been talking to himself, for they ignored him in favour of enthusing over the cookies: This one has got almonds in it! Gooey chocolate chips! What a delicious buttery flavour! Oh, I have never tasted such sweet sinfulness! Lord, forgive me! Law had to ask Bepo, who usually was alerted to Law’s presence the second before Law stepped into a room – they both did, their senses highly attuned to detecting each other’s presence, but Bepo had been drugged into a stupor by the fishy treats he munched on. It appeared no one had seen Emil after she’d delivered the cookies and ran off. Law left the children to gorge themselves silly and started for his room, wondering if Emil had left him something – a parting gift? A note? Would Emil inform him of any intention to take her life? He doubted so; they weren’t exactly friends – neither would openly declare themselves to be, at least, or so he thought. He wondered if she would leave him Bor, but being trapped underwater for weeks wasn’t exactly ideal for Bor’s well-being.

Law remembered the last time Emil had left him a jar of cookies hanging from a plunger stuck outside his window, and half-expected to find another. Disappointment pricked him and he frowned when there were none. Then he turned and spotted the two whiskey glasses sitting on his desk – they weren’t there in the morning. He’d missed Emil, apparently; she’d snuck in and out without his knowledge. He picked up a glass, and upon closer inspection, his jaw dropped, though he gripped the glass carefully. He raised the glass to his face and tilted it at different angles. The same set of whiskey glasses he’d been eyeing in the shop, unable to decide if they were worthy to join his collection of skull memorabilia, for he could identify a number of inaccuracies in the design of the skulls. Inaccuracies aside, as a diehard skull fanatic, and self-proclaimed reaper, Law was thrilled, the gift lighting a spark in his glazed eyes. How generous of his nemesis, Satan. It was certainly one of the finest gifts she gave him, although that fluffy beanbag chair came a close second, followed by the plague doctor mask. The toast cushion he couldn’t say he was a fan of, and had donated it to one of the crew.

Law set the glass down on his desk, beside the human skull paperweight, skull wax stamp, skull candle holder. He stepped back and scrutinised the glasses with approval – they complemented the gloomy décor of his room. Until he found a skeleton worthy of sharing his closet, metaphorical ones would suffice. Law dug out a mirror, placed it on the desk. Having acquired rum from the kitchen, he filled both glasses, watching intently as the dark liquid filled the skulls, and sat down in front of the mirror. He lifted a glass, toasted his reflection, and tipped the glass to his lips. He imagined he was guzzling down the blood of his enemies and felt absolutely wicked, top-of-the-world sinister. Allowing himself this rarer moment of indulgence, he downed both shots, and sighed with pleasure. His thoughts strayed back to Emil, questioning the motivation behind her gift. Why two glasses? Was she inviting him for a last drink? Of course, this was assuming Emil did want to kill herself. He hoped not, because he wasn’t sure he would stop her – he doubted she’d want him to stop her. This was Emil they were talking about. She wouldn’t want his interference, let alone his help. Ultimately, he didn’t offer help to those reluctant to accept it. Besides, it wasn’t like he could stop Emil, short of chaining her up, if she truly set her mind to it.

The next day, Law went shopping, then he took the whiskey glasses, wrapped in cloth, and a bottle of whiskey, to the Caramel in search of Emil. Whether she was in or out when he arrived that night, he invited himself in, and set the whiskey bottle and glasses down on the coffee table. He left his gift for Emil in her room: a pair of skeleton gloves (he remembered the skeleton hoodie she had, and thought she needed gloves to match), with the skeleton designs embossed so that if she ran her fingers over it, she might be able to feel out the design; and a pair of leather fingerless gloves decorated with round studs, and with metal skulls over the knuckles. He hoped she would be kind enough not to punch him while wearing it.

“Drink?” he asked, if she was in. Otherwise, he sat on the couch and waited until she came back. Per her agreement, if she answered him, he poured whiskey into both glasses and slid one towards her. He scrutinised Emil, searching for signs of anything amiss, anything uncharacteristic, drawing in a deep breath, as though such a thing like despair could be sniffed out in the air. “So, what’s the occasion?” Law asked, imbuing his voice with suspicion to override any traces of concern. “Why all these…gifts? Are you leaving?” 

* * *

**Lizard**

Emil stood in the shower when Law entered Caramel. She chuckled to herself as the water poured against her forehead and flowed down her neck and chest - she hadn't sensed the slightest hesitation in Law, so next time she visited Polar Tang, she was going to enter his room without hesitation either. Who had started it anyway? Entering the other's quarters as if they were your own. Was it Law? Was it her? Either was possible. Emil couldn't remember.

Without hurry, she rinsed the peach conditioner off her hair and turned off the water. Humming to herself - intentionally making Law wait - she dried herself off and combed her fingers through her hair. She would have gone as far as blow-drying her hair if only she _owned_ a blow dryer. She stepped out of the bathroom into her bedroom and paused. With one hand on the handle door and the other on her naked hip, she pondered a certain idea... Shrugged and decided to go with it: instead of welcoming Law in her nude, what wouldn't be all that surprising really, she fished a dressing-gown out of her wardrobe. She gave it a brief sniff before full on pressing it against her face. It was fluffy and soft and smelled of her vanilla fabric softener.

Why, just why didn't she wear it more often?

She picked two pairs of gloves Law had brought and put them both into the gown pockets before stepping barefoot out of her bedroom. "Sure, why not." While Law poured them drinks, Emil took a tin with oatmeal cookies out of a cupboard. Somehow she had gotten into a habit of always having some oatmeal cookies at hand whenever Polar Tang was within a visitable distance. She put the tin on the table, took one cookie, took her glass with a quiet 'thanks' and sat down sideways on the opposite side of the couch than Law. Emil had considered sitting with her back against _his_ side, not the armrest, but she decided to harass him later.

As if some more conservative folks wouldn't scream sexual harassment at the sight of her naked leg already - the front of Emil's gown slid to the sides, revealing her right leg nearly all the way to the hip.

"Leaving?" She repeated after him. "Why would I be leaving, Law?" With a mischievous smirk she hid behind her glass, Emil poked Law's thigh with her toe. "Why, is someone planning to annoy me?" She took a sip and lowered her glass. Her smile softened as she leant her head against the backrest. "Oh, or the other way around: did you come to stop me?" She dipped her cookie in the whiskey. "Would be sweet of you if only there was a possibility you would do that." If anything, he probably would just demand more cookies for his crew before she leaves for good.

Emil shook her head and took a bite of her whiskey-soaked cookie. "No, I'm not leaving Law. You haven't annoyed me enough yet to outweigh the adorableness of your kids. They've always been your best trait," she teased, apparently unable to be nice to Law for more than two seconds. "Speaking about them, do I really need a reason to gift my favourite bunch of kids with cookies? They are a delight to cook and bake for, Law. Have you ever tried it? Not baking. Though it would be nice if you joined on that. I mean doing something small for them just to see them brighten up? Irritating people is amusing, angering them is good too but there's something extra warm about making others happy. _Especially_ if you care for those others." She shrugged and slid down, now half laying on the couch. "As for _your_ gift..."

Lifting the glass, Emil tilted her head as if examining it under a light that might or might not shine through the whiskey, rendering it a brilliant amber colour. For all she knew, Law might have forgotten to turn on the lights and they say in the moonlight and whatever lantern shone on the ships beside Caramel. 

"I got a whole set - six glasses - but thought you would like the design as well and decided I'm willing to part with two. One for you-" Emil rolled her hand and pointed her cookie at Law- "and one for a..." She paused, now pointing at herself. "A guest I suppose." It could be Emil, it could be literally anyone else in the world for all she cared.

She hummed, pondering whether to thank him for the gloves or not. Whether to pull them out, or not.

Not yet. She would wait to see if _he_ brings it up.

"So?" She rose an eyebrow at him and poked his tight with her toe again. "Why _did_ you come over? If it was _only_ to ask me if I'm leaving or not, you wouldn't bring a bottle and pour us drinks."

* * *

**Lena**

Law stared with amazement when Emil dipped her cookie in her whiskey – ever the renegade, it seemed. Much as he loved her oatmeal cookies, much as he enjoyed the taste of whiskey, he could not imagine mixing up the two. Liquor connoisseurs across the globe would shudder at that thought. Law eyed Emil intently as Emil bit into the cookie and chewed. He half-expected her to grimace and spit out chunks of soggy whiskey-flavoured cookie, and his brows rose slightly when she appeared to be savouring it instead.

Ignoring her toe that poked his thigh, Law helped himself to the tin of cookies. He pinched an oatmeal cookie between his thumb and finger, raised his whiskey glass, and carefully dunked the cookie into the alcohol. Then he decided he would go a step further, be bolder than Emil, and he dropped the cookie, letting it soak in the whiskey like a cube of ice. The cookie was drowning for seconds as he listened to Emil’s words, before he rescued it. Alas, it crumbled the second he lifted it out, and plopped back into the whiskey. He narrowed his eyes at it, then brought the glass to his lips, and sipped tentatively. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed. Law set the glass down slowly and pressed his lips together, his gaze lowered to the table to conceal the satisfaction in his wide eyes.

 _It was fucking delicious_. What the hell was this sorcery? How could Emil keep such a secret recipe from him?

Law reached for his glass and swirled it, mixing the remnants of the cookie into the alcohol. He flicked a glance in Emil’s direction. She was certainly enjoying herself, wasn’t she? Then again, it wasn’t at his expense, so he had zero complaints, though she was being unnecessarily roundabout, he thought. First, she asked him why she would be leaving – as though she had some intention to leave. Usually, if asked _Are you leaving?_ someone, who had no intention to leave, ought to say, _No_. But she answered his question with a question? Then she played it off as a light-hearted jest, asking if he planned to annoy her into leaving. Then asking if he came to stop her, saying it would be sweet if he would. Law’s brows knitted together in concern and confusion. Could she spare him the riddles and ambiguity? It seemed their conversations were always cryptic, and they were hardly ever straight with each other. In his opinion, someone who intended to leave but wished for someone to stop them would’ve responded as she did.

Just when he was sure he had her analysed and figured out, she said she wasn’t leaving after all. He couldn’t tell if she was still joking, since she was claiming he hadn’t annoyed her enough to goad her into sacrificing time with his children. (No, he did not correct her that they weren’t his children.) The more he listened, the more his confusion escalated to perplexity and the more his furrow deepened. Doing small things for others – something extra warm about making others happy? Especially if one cared for those others? Sure, she was talking about baking for his children, but did that also extend to her shopping for a gift for him? Of course, just as he thought that, she shrugged off her gift-giving as merely to clear space in her kitchen – because six was apparently too many glasses for a young bachelorette – so there was nothing personal about her gift. Yet, she went on to imply the two glasses she gave him were for him and…herself? His mind busy overthinking things, he didn’t register her second poke on his thigh, and he didn’t bring up the gloves he brought her either. For a moment, he slumped against the couch and sipped his oatmeal-cookie-infused-whiskey, stumped for reasons why he had visited.

It wasn’t like he could say: _Oh, I came to see if you wanted to kill yourself, and I was going to offer to help, or, I don’t know, witness it, because I love witnessing people dying, don’t you know? And I wanted you to know that, well, if you wanted me to stop you, I would, I could give you reasons not to do it. But as for physically restraining you… I can’t do that, not unless you told me you wanted me to do it. Otherwise, I could, at least, see that you get a proper burial, wherever you please._

Or could he?

Law downed the contents of his glass, fished out the bits of cookie that remained behind, and popped them into his mouth. He swallowed and put his glass down. “I came to see if you had wanted to kill yourself – of course, technically, we’re all slowly killing ourselves, in one way or another, but, I meant, to see if you were going to do it, immediately – or soon, and I was going to offer myself as an eyewitness, because I love witnessing people dying, don’t you know?” He spoke levelly, in his monotonous voice, with a solemn expression fixed on his face. “And being your only friend, I thought I should be there to witness such a life-changing event. I’d also see that your body doesn’t go to waste. I’d harvest your organs and have them preserved. And…right. I’ve been hunting for ages for a skeleton that I could keep in my closet, and yours would be the most fitting.” He paused, staring at her with a deadpan look. “Your stature and physique would fit the dimensions of my closet, whereas for most other skeletons, I’d have to lop off the head, and that just won’t do, because have you ever seen a headless skeleton?”

He poured himself another glass of whiskey. A mistake. Why had he blabbered such drivel? In actuality, he had come to check on her, because he knew what it could be like. Bepo had made it a habit to check on him from time to time, even though he’d assured Bepo that things were different now, they were better, and such intentions plagued him much less than they did in the past. Still, he appreciated Bepo checking on him, the small and big things Bepo did that showed his care and concern and friendship and loyalty. It mattered to him that Bepo always came looking for him should he wander off for too long; Bepo always found him. Now, perhaps Emil would, herself, find some semblance of comfort in the fact that Law would come to pester – check on her, whenever they were docked close by.

“You want me to bake?” He decided to pick up on that. “Why?” He grabbed another cookie and dunked it. “We already have you and Bepo baking enough to feed an island.” He stirred the cookie into the whiskey. Then again, what if he _did_ bake for the crew? He would, only because they would be taken aback and they would be his reluctant guinea pigs. “Hm…” He arched his brows and shot Emil a teasing look. “Are you suggesting I should do something small for you to make you happy? Or were you implying that I care for you and that’s why I irritate and anger you?” He drummed his fingers lightly on the glass, his gaze lingering on her face to observe her reaction to his words. He did do small things for the crew - indirectly, of course. Whenever someone was homesick, they looked for treasures, food, smells reminiscent of their hometown, exchanging tales of their childhoods; if someone was upset, they sparred and then had drinks. But that was how the whole crew functioned.

“But, yeah, why not, I’ll take up baking,” he said. “You could teach me the recipe for Bepo’s fishy treats. I never hear the end of it when you bake them for him.” He looked over her, in her fluffy robe that looked extra soft, and gave a slight frown. “So, you like doing small things for people to brighten them up? Do you think that would be effective in defeating your enemy” –he gestured to himself with the glass in his hand- “or could it be you actually cared for…” _Me._ He couldn’t say it.

* * *

**Lizard**

_Being her only friend?_

Emil couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at Law. Had he forgotten about Bor? Granted, he had never met Jaya nor Monie but it was _bold_ of him to assume he was her _only_ friend. _Him_! Emil wasn't sure whether to feel offended by this notion or grin from ear to ear and tease Law about the fact he's just called himself her _friend_.

She still had no idea what to call it. Their relationship. It wasn't your cookie-cutter friendship for sure but she _did_ like him. He was weird and strange and amusing at times. And he liked grim things; Emil would have to remember to show him the skull-shaped ice moulds she had gotten along with the glasses.

"Oh, my sweet _heart_ -" with a chuckle, Emil shook her head- "I am _not_ sharing my fishcake recipe with you. Nor anyone really. Bepo's happiness at them always made me smile and now, the knowledge he rambles about them to you, only makes it so much _better_." Emil pushed herself up and leaned forward, pulling her legs only close enough she could rest her elbow on her knees. She adjusted her gown to cover her thighs but left the calves exposed. "Wanna have a feel?" To demonstrate, she ran her hand down the right shin. "I've just shaved - they are extra smooth now." Emil paused and rubbed her legs together - this silky smooth feeling was _the_ reason she ever bothered with shaving her legs.

With her forearm on her knees, Emil took a sip of her whiskey. "Coming back though, no, Law, it wasn't my intention to imply you cared for me and _that's_ why you irritate me. No. Irritating other people is fun. Angering them is fun. Making people happy is great. Making people who you care for happy is amazing. People you care for applies to happiness but not exactly to the other two." She shrugged. "Well, not to the anger bit at least; you can irritate people you like and care for if _playful_ irritation is the dynamic you're going for. And you gotta balance it out with being nice because is it really caring for if you never do anything nice?"

"Huh?" Emil frowned. Haven't they had a similar conversation before? A long, long time ago. Even before they parted their ways for over a year. If her memory served right, she had claimed she offered Law a mix of irritation and niceness while he gave her _only_ irritation.

She swirled her glass, her gaze locked on it before she focused on Law. There he was, bringing drinks and being worried she might try to hurt herself. Offering to be there to stop her. Emil wouldn't do it. Sure, she _still_ wanted to die, but her desire to keep the promise was _still_ stronger. Regardless, it was... _Nice_ of Law to bother. Still, she decided _not_ to grace him with as much as a mention of this topic.

"To you, Law." Emil lifted her glass to toast. "An asshole I apparently have hugged often enough he considers himself my only _friend_." She snickered but her smile stayed soft and caring - it showed no signs of mischief nor mockery. If he didn't lie in his attempt to make fun of her, it _was_ nice. It _was_ nice he considered himself her friend, the 'only' part aside. Maybe that was what they were. Some weird, atypical _friends_. "No, kindness isn't really effective again enemies but I've never considered you to be one."

* * *

 **The thread got dropped, here's a summary of what happened next** :

He had a feel of her legs. He didn't see why not. She obviously wanted him to, and while he would've usually put up some resistance against what she wanted him to do, in this case, he decided he would surprise her. And he concluded from his experiment that her legs were silky smooth, so he stroked his hand over the length of her calf another time. Then he toasted her, to all the assholes in the world, and said he hoped he was the only one she had apparently hugged often enough. When she said she never considered him an enemy, he told her neither had he, in a quiet voice.

They drank a few more shots, and he had another cookie. He decided to feel her legs again. It was nothing like running his fingers through Bepo's soft fur after Bepo had had a bath and had dried up, but they were smooth and altogether certainly not unpleasant to the touch. With his brilliance at flirting- not that he was even trying, but if it may be interpreted as such, he enquired about her shaving routine and asked if she shaved only her legs. Sometime later, they took things to the bedroom, though it may not have waited that long, and they may have started getting carried away on the couch. 

-

Emil found it interesting Law hoped there were no more assholes she hugged. Could it be that in some twisted way he _enjoyed_ her hugs and - enviously - wished to be the only asshole to have them thrust upon? Emil didn't probe. She decided to be - for once - nice... At least not to mock him too much. She shifted closer each time he touched her legs, finding it interesting he repeated the action unprompted. Enquired about her shaving routine and tendencies, Emil laughed. Old, good, socially awkward Law. If he asked that any other woman, he was likely to get a scowl or even a slap. 'Go on and feel the places you're curious about.'

They might not be friends. They might. Whatever it was, Law wasn't half bad with his hands.


	3. Miguel | Emil - Firewatch AU

**Lena**

Miguel stood on the open view deck of the fire lookout tower. Aside from a sagging board or two that creaked under his footsteps, and a patch of rust here and there on the wrought-iron railings, the deck looked well-maintained, he noted, though he kept away from the edge and leaned on nothing, for it wasn’t fall-proof, and he would be careful not to pitch over on his first day on the job – or his second day, or ever.

For securing the job, Miguel rewarded himself with a moment of appreciation for the view, which was nothing short of breath-taking. Under the scorching summer sun, the green expanse of the dense forests lay before him in blissful quietude. He would’ve taken a picture if he was someone who bothered capturing the transient moments, the beauty of nature, but he much preferred enjoying them in the present. Down below, he could barely make out the dirt track that had led him to the summit, on which the fire tower perched, with one-way straight stairs that rose under the tower. Miguel didn’t think he’d ever been this high up. He could almost imagine he was at the top of the world.

Dabbing at the sweat on his brow with his sleeve, Miguel stepped into the enclosed observation post, in the centre of the deck, that would be his home for the following weeks. He’d arrived less than fifteen minutes ago, and it’d taken him less than half that time to unpack his clothes. He hadn’t brought much of anything – nothing else seemed necessary. The place was stocked with canned and frozen food and came equipped with a kitchenette that included an old four-burner gas stove and a small microwave oven. Large windows sat on all sides, promising him a good view of the daily sunrise and sunset. The single bed offered two pillows and a comforter, a luxury; there was a sitting chair, shelves filled with books, a wooden desk with an old computer and keyboard. A large map of the national park was plastered over the divider in the centre. Miguel wouldn’t even complain about the standing fan and lack of air-conditioning. It was one of the finest accommodations he’d ever resided in – and he had the entire place to himself, no snoring, untidy, drunken roommates. Here, in the middle of the wilderness, he could be king of the jungle. He even had experience with prolonged isolation (regrettably). The job was easy money, he figured - easier than janitorial duty in a high school, easier than driving trucks through heavy traffic, or in the wee hours of the night.

Miguel spotted the walkie-talkie and tensed up briefly when he remembered he was supposed to radio his supervisor to let them know he had reported for duty. Miguel grabbed the walkie-talkie and pushed the button to talk. Miguel cleared his throat.

“Hello?” he said. “Hello, do you read me?” He waited for a response - if there would be one - before he blurted out: “Hi, yes, you got a Hawaiian Delight pizza with extra olives and cheese?” Miguel, despite his name starting with the letter ‘M’, was never memorable. In a bid to leave a memorable impression, or at least, to start off on a light-hearted note, his mind had convinced himself that was a good idea. “Wait-Wait, sorry,” he hastily added. “I’m calling-radioing from Tower C. Oh, I’m Miguel Vazquez, the new fire dude.” A pause. “That is, the new fire watch dude. I’m no arsonist, I promise.” A muffled curse sounded from his lips. “I mean, look, can we start over? I’m Miguel, the new fire watch guy. And you would be…?”

* * *

**Lizard**

Her walkie-talkie came to live the very moment a fish caught a hook. _Of course,_ it happened at the same time. Cursing under her breath, Emil stood up and reeled in. The unfamiliar voice on the radio chatted nonsense Emil chuckled at but she kept on fighting the fish. Bor barked, wagging his tail. With his front paws just at the waterline, he eyed the fish struggling in the water, white foam forming around it. "Yes, this one's for you." With a smile, Emil shook her head and whooped when the fish sprung out from under the surface. Emil dropped the fish into her water bucket - with the hook still in its mouth - and picked up the walkie talkie.

"Hey, sorry, you caught me with my hands full." Emil sat down on the soft grass. "Nice to hear from you, Miguel, I'm Emil from the tower H. You should be able to see it from your tower if you look south-south-east." Bor barked again; Emil shushed him but scratched behind his ear. "That was Bor, my dog. I have to say you're earlier than I expected - I thought you would be there in an hour or two. I'm not even in my tower at the moment. Not that it matters." Humming in thought, Emil now scratched her own chin. "Okay, do you want to go through what's what and why we are even here now or do you want to have a go at it later? I stationed in tower C four years ago - I know it's a trek up there." She snorted. "It's a trek to each tower."

* * *

**Lena**

_E-M-I-L._ Miguel scribbled the name down. He was unlikely to forget – no failing memory at his age – but in the rare, rare chance he slipped up, he didn’t want to have to ask it again. He wrote ‘Tower H’ next to the name. Then he frowned. By his knowledge, Emil was a masculine name. He didn’t think it was a unisex name, though he couldn’t be sure. The voice through the walkie-talkie, however, while deep, if he strained to listen, he could detect a hint of womanliness in it. Miguel turned up the volume knob and put the device to his ear. There it was again, just the slightest trace. Not that Miguel was trained in voice analysis, and perhaps he was mistaken, perhaps the walkie-talkie distorted Emil’s voice – perhaps it didn’t matter. Miguel grabbed the binoculars and turned south-south-east, trying to see Tower H.

“I don’t mind the trek,” Miguel was quick to add. “It’s not too bad, I could do it every morning and afternoon with ease, as long as I’m not being chased or hunted by anything.” He made a mental note to ask about wildlife sightings later. “Yeah and I wanted to get up here early, since I wasn’t sure how long the trek would take. Seems I caught you at a bad time though.” Having glimpsed a tower that he supposed must be Tower H, he set down the binoculars. “I can see your tower from here,” he said. “We can go through what’s what when your hands aren’t full? And why we are even here now, you said… I take it you don’t mean why are we here on this planet, stuck in this life?” He sounded a touch amused. “Are you out hunting with your dog? I can radio back later. Wouldn't want to distract you from your prize.”

* * *

**Lizard**

"No." Emil shook her head despite knowing Miguel couldn't see her. "There's no open season for anything at the moment. There won't be any until a few weeks after the end of our jobs. If you hear anyone shooting, report it straight away and don't engage yourself. We are supposed to deal with rare rowdy tourists but we are _not_ trained to deal with armed people and any respectable hunter knows nothing's in season. There shouldn't be any thought, poachers happen once in a few years across the whole forest and we had one last year. I was fishing, Bor, no." She pushed Bor's head away from the bucket. "You'll get one later."

"Sorry, Miguel. Where were we?" She puffed her cheeks, humming. "Nah, I didn't mean it in the philosophical context; why we are here. The office is supposed to inform new people on objectives of the job, duties and whatnot. Usually, they do but _sometimes_ , they _forget_." She grabbed at the line and tugged the fish - the hook was still attached. "You can talk but give me a few minutes - gotta do something."

* * *

 **The thread got dropped, here's a summary of what happened next** :

Emil instructs Miguel what to do. The summer passes without any fires or other incidents. They sometimes chatted, but not much and Miguel never found out whether Emil was a man or a woman.

Miguel, however, could never forget that summer job. There were times when he got a little paranoid thinking Emil was someone dangerous he'd read about in the news a year back, though he later admitted it was irrational to jump to such conclusions, and that his paranoia was likely triggered by extended bouts of boredom that tended to engender wild theories and whatnot. Still, during their time working together, he had tried to question Emil, conducting a sort of interrogation he hoped would not be too obvious. Till date, he still wonders if Emil was or wasn't a gangster, and if Emil was a man, woman, or otherwise. 


End file.
